9. 1997
Chapter nine
1997
Dexter's
Maria
“ H ave fun tonight, Maria,” Nate says as he kisses me on the forehead, his breath reeking of booze. I give him a fake sweet smile as I watch him and his friends leave the overcrowded bar.
God, I hate this place.
Nate and I have only been here one other time since we started dating a few months ago. It’s always the same scene. Drunk guys and girls downing beers and exchanging numbers after they dance up against one another. Loud country music blares as line dancers stomp and turn in unison with the beat of the music. Nate picked this place for our guys’ and girls’ night out.
I didn’t get a say. I never do.
Which I know sounds awful, but it’s what I need in my life right now. School is kicking my butt, and my parents’ marriage is deteriorating at a rapid rate. I don’t have the energy to make decisions … with anything. That’s why Nate and I work.
He leads the way, and I follow.
Am I happy? I gave up on happiness two years ago.
Nate enjoys showing me off and parading our relationship around like I’m a prize he won. And I admit, deep down, I like the attention. And he likes the arm candy. There’s no denying it, we look good together. Our friends say it all the time.
“You two are the cutest couple.”
“I want a relationship just like you guys have.”
“I wish I had someone that loves me like Nate loves you.”
If they only knew how profoundly sad I am.
Nate and his buddies left to play poker while I wait for the girls to arrive. I hope once they get here, I can convince them to leave because this place is not my scene.
I glance down at my watch. A quarter after ten. Ugh. They were supposed to have been here fifteen minutes ago. I’m standing here alone in this dive, hoping no one approaches me. Out of the corner of my eye, my gold link watch catches a ray of light from the lamp at my table, and it looks just as beautiful as the day Sam gave it to me.
When I glance at this watch, memories of him flood my mind. I broke him, so I don’t deserve to have any feelings for him. I know I shouldn’t. But I do, and I always will. The guilt I harbor in destroying his life will always stay with me.
On instinct, I cover the watch with my hand after I look at it to get the time. It’s almost like covering it holds in place the time we spent together. I never want him to escape my memory, so I cover the watch. To protect what we had and hold it close. It’s comforting. Almost like he’s here with me as I wait alone.
A Shania Twain song plays as couples slow down and hold each other on the dance floor.
“May I have this dance?” a deep voice asks, and a calloused hand appears under my nose as I stare down at my drink.
I knew it! Now I have to tell some drunk dude ‘No, thank you. I have a boyfriend.’ There is no way I’m dancing with some stranger. I turn my eyes up to this man to give him the death glare. “No, thanks, I’m wait—”
My breath hitches in my throat.
It’s Sam.
I’m frozen in place. My heart drops, and heat rises to my head as I’m met with the brown eyes that I know so well. Eyes that I could stare at for hours.
This can’t be happening .
I look around the bar frantically, praying that Nate is gone and not seeing this. My girlfriends aren’t here yet either. He knows about Sam, but he doesn’t know it all.
“Sam, what are you doing here?” I ask, as if this is my bar and he’s on my turf. I have a feeling it’s the other way around.
He doesn’t answer my question as he takes my hand in his. This is the first time we have touched in two years. An instant spark pierces through me from his touch. He leans down and whispers in my ear, his lips grazing my hair. “Please, Maria, dance with me?” My knees wobble at the sound of his plea, and I have no clue how I’m going to move.
But I can’t resist.
I never could.
“Okay.” The word comes out in a whisper as I struggle to catch my breath.
Before I know it—or control it—my feet are moving, and I’m following him to the dance floor.
God, he looks incredible . The same, yet different. Older, perhaps. We dodge the swaying couples as we make our way to the middle of the floor. He pulls me to him, resting his left hand on my lower back while grasping my other hand. I place my palm on his shoulder, which feels broader. The moment I’m in his arms, a sense of comfort and familiarity washes over me, as if I’ve returned to where I belong. We fit together like a puzzle. We always have.
With Shania singing from the speakers, our bodies naturally sway to the music. I take a step back, keeping a distance between us.
“So, was that Chad?” His eyes are practically burning a hole into me with his stare, waiting for an answer, but I can’t look at him, so I glance around the room.
“Um … no. That was Nate.” I pause before I tell him the truth. “My boyfriend.”
Now it’s his turn to look away from me. We continue to sway in tune to the music. With his hand touching my back, it ignites a burning sensation that spreads like a fire through my whole body. A fire that was non-existent with Chad or Nate.
“What happened to Chad? Or are you seeing both of them?” My eyes dart up to his as he grimaces at his attempt to hurt me.
“Chad and I didn’t work out.”
“Shocker.” He huffs out.
I survey the room, looking for Jennifer Freaking Snow. She’s nowhere. “Things didn’t work out with Jennifer?” I squeeze my eyes shut, shocked the question poured out of my mouth.
Sam’s head snaps back in surprise, causing me to glance back up at him, a puzzled look etched on his face. “Jennifer? Who is Jenni—” Realization flashes in his eyes as he shakes his head in disbelief. “How did you know about Jennifer?”
I guess it’s time to confess, but I can’t look at him, though, as I admit to it. The shame and embarrassment are too much, so I lower my gaze.
“After Chad and I broke up two years ago, I went to your apartment to try to win you back. That’s when I saw you and her on the building’s front porch. You took her inside, so I left.”
As I continue to focus on the floor, his eyes burn into me while he stays silent at this revelation.
Seconds tick by. “You came to win me back?” he asks in a whisper. I nod my head.
Neither of us says anything as we continue to sway to the music, lost in the moment. With each passing beat, the dance floor grows more crowded, the rising temperature of the room adding to the heat that always existed between us.
I can’t take the silence anymore, so I speak up. “Sam, why don’t you say what you want to say? I know you want to. I deserve it.” He should give me a tongue-lashing. I broke up with him over a letter. A letter that was full of lies. A letter Chad forced me to write .
“I never dated Jennifer.” As he reveals the truth, our eyes lock. He studies me before he continues. “Her and I connected, here actually, about six months after The Chad, I felt like maybe—”
Suddenly, I’m very confused. “ The Chad ?” I question.
A wicked smile crosses his lips. “I nicknamed the letter.”
This makes me snort out a laugh, which causes Sam to chuckle, adding some lightness to an otherwise heavy moment.
Sam continues after we get ourselves under control. “Anyway, I ran into Jennifer here, and we started talking, so I asked her out. She confessed that she always liked me in school, so I thought, why not?”
I turn my head away again because this is harder to hear than I thought it was going to be.
“We went out only once. That night you saw us, apparently.” I nod in agreement and let out a slow breath, mentally preparing myself. He pauses, and his grip on my hand tightens, steadying me for what he is about to say next. “She met me at my place, and we went to dinner, then here for some drinks. We had a good time. She was nice, like she always was in high school. I drove her back to my place and—”
“Stop. I don’t need to know the rest,” I interject, because this is pure torture.
“I couldn’t go through with it, Maria,” he continues. My head jerks up to meet his eyes, hollow and empty.
“Why?” I choke out.
The mutual affection we always shared passes between us as his eyes soften. “Isn’t it obvious?” He whispers.
As we continue to dance, on instinct, our bodies gravitate toward one another. A tingling sensation erupts through my whole body as we come dangerously close. The electricity humming along with nowhere to go.
He’s peering down at me now, and I know what he wants to ask. Finally, he does. “Why, Maria? Why did you do it?”
I quickly avert my gaze back down to the dusty dance floor as I ready myself to lie to him. My voice trembling, I force out the words. “It was complicated.” It’s the only response I offer to anyone brave enough to ask .
I can’t tell him the truth. How my manager sexually harassed me for weeks, leaving me feeling cheap and small. How he forced me to date him, or he would fire me. How I wasn’t brave enough to stand up to him. How I desperately needed the money, even though I can’t tell him why. Then how Chad gave me a raise, one bigger than I deserved. How Chad sat next to me as I wrote the letter, then kissed me after I finished. A single tear ran down my cheek as my new reality came into sharp focus. The story of why I left Chad.
I can’t tell him any of it. I don’t want to ruin what feels like a perfect moment here in the bar I hate, but now, never want to leave. Plus, too much time has passed.
Does he even want me anymore? After what I put him through, probably not.
Thankfully, he doesn’t push as we continue to dance. Sam could always read me like a book. I’m sure he can pick up on the tension in the air, the silence heavy with unspoken words. My shoulders are tight, and I’m biting my lower lip. If he wasn’t holding my hand, I would be biting my nails, so I pick them instead.
All my tells.
Sam knows this because, out of habit, he strokes the exposed skin on my back with his thumb. He pulls our interlaced fingers into his chest as he nudges me toward him. I follow his lead, and before I know it, my head is resting on his chest, his racing heart, thumping away. Bob Seger’s “We’ve Got Tonight” plays as the entire room fades to black. The commotion, the chatter, is gone.
It’s a surreal feeling to be back in Sam’s arms, a place that was a distant memory, and I’m going to relish in it for as long as I can.
He slowly releases his hand from mine and runs his fingers over my wrist and down to the watch, staring at it, studying it, and moving it around. Goosebumps erupt over my arm. “You still have it,” he chokes out, not taking his eyes off it as he runs his fingers under the band, lightly grazing the skin on the inside of my wrist. The intimate touch causes the passion we always felt to pass between us. I force down the tears.
“Maria, can you look at me, please?” I do as he asks. As soon as our eyes connect, we stop dancing. He stares at me intently, scanning my face, memorizing it, the way he always did. I wonder if he misses this, misses us, as much as I do. The darkening of his eyes tells me he does.
His eyes drift to my lips as his part slightly. If he tries to kiss me, I know I’ll let him. His hand leaves my back, landing on my hip, and squeezes. His desire matches mine, and I can sense the internal struggle he’s facing. Our mouths are inches apart, our heavy breaths warm with hunger. I tilt my head, part my lips, and close my eyes, waiting for it.
Which is why I don’t see Nate coming.
“HEY! GET AWAY FROM MY GIRL!” In a flash, Nate grabs my arm and tears us apart. He shoves Sam away from me as I stumble backward, slamming into a couple behind me.
Sam puts his hands up in surrender as he gives me a quick, knowing glance. “Sorry, man, I didn’t know she was taken,” he says, covering for me.
Nate looks at me; his face is red and, his eyes glassy. “Did this moron force himself on you?”
That would be a no.
But I can’t say that. I also can’t tell Nate who this is. In his current inebriated state, I don’t trust that he won’t do something stupid and try to hurt Sam. I can’t let that happen. I grab onto Nate’s arm, pulling him toward the exit. “Nate, it’s fine. Let’s just get out of here,” I plead with him. “And why are you back?”
“We hadn’t left yet and were still outside. The girls arrived, and Jenny came out and said that she saw some guy with his paws all over you on the dance floor.” I glance over to my table, and there sit Jenny, Kim, and Valerie, looking stunned by the scene that just played out.
I was so caught up in my Sam haze, I didn’t notice that my friends had arrived and saw the whole thing.
Lovely.
Nate takes three determined steps towards Sam and points his finger right in his face. “I better never see you in here ever again.”
Sam shakes his head in disbelief and huffs out a snicker as he takes a step closer to Nate. They are nose to nose now. “Or you’ll do what?” Sam asks through gritted teeth, his voice low and dripping with anger. I have never seen Sam full of this much rage.
Out of nowhere, the massive bartender inserts himself into the chaos. “Do we have a problem here?” His big, booming voice reverberates throughout.
Sam turns to the giant, takes a step back, and puts his fisted hands in his pockets. “Nope, no problem.” Another guy—this one I recognize—rushes over. Ricky. Sam’s best friend and our supposed waiter on our first date. A piercing look filled with anger locks onto me .
He turns to Sam. “You okay, man?” Sam nods.
The big guy looks at Nate, then at me. He narrows his eyes. “I think it would be better if you left.” I have a feeling he knows exactly who I am because he addresses me and not Nate.
Nate shakes his head in disgust as he grips my hand tightly. “Come on, Maria, let’s get out of here. This place is a dump, anyway.” He leads me towards the door as my friends abandon the table and follow behind us.
Before I exit, I steal a glance back and see Sam standing alone in the middle of the dance floor. Bob Seger’s voice fills the room with a question that mirrors the expression on Sam’s face.
“Why don’t you stay?”
I wish I could, Sam. I wish I could.