37
ELEANOR
Jolene places a cupcake on my table. “Happy last day!”
I look at the pretty cupcake, my favorite flavor from the bakery nearby.
Then I burst into tears.
“Woah! That’s not the reaction I expected!”
I sniffle, wiping at my eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m just . . .”
Everything that had slotted into place no longer fits. Luke hasn’t spoken to me in a week, and I miss him with every fiber of my being. I wake up in the middle of the night with tears running into my ears. I wrap my arms around myself, imagining his embrace. I mourn the future we were supposed to have together.
It feels like the end.
“Honey, come here.” Jolene hugs me. “You’ve had a rough go lately, I know. But it’s okay. Things will all work out.”
“If he breaks up with me, why the hell did I stay here?”
“You said you loved Austin. That was why you were staying.”
I roll my eyes. “Who was I kidding?”
“You’re being ridiculous. You belong here, Eleanor. With Luke or not.”
I want the “with Luke.” I don’t think I’ll survive the “not.”
“Tell you what. We’ll go out tonight. Go see a show, huh? We’ll enjoy ourselves. And you’ll remember why you’re staying.”
“No, Jolene, that’s—”
“I’m your boss for one more day. This is my last executive order.”
I giggle and mush my face into her shoulder. “What would I do without you?”
“I don’t know. There’s no one like me back in Chicago.”
Truer words were never spoken.
* * *
I’ve donned my cowboy boots tonight. We’re seeing a show at The Yellow Rose. It was a coincidence that Jolene chose this place. Thankfully, Luke’s company isn’t promoting this event. No chance I’ll run into him while he’s working. He might think I’m a creep if I did.
Floods of memories come back from the night I met Luke. When he was a stranger.
Tonight, though, we’re just in the general admission crowd, no VIP about it. I don’t have to sit at that table again and remember how we talked with our bodies bent close so we could hear each other over the music.
That was the night he lied to me. The lie that was the beginning of the end.
We were doomed from the start. An oddly comforting thought. I couldn’t have done anything differently. It’s all on him.
“Come on, let’s get a better spot!” Jolene shouts over the music.
She takes my hand and leads me through the crowd, saying excuse me and pardon me, not the least bit bothered by the glares of people we step in front of. I apologize to each of them as we wade up to the front.
The musical act tonight is a girl group, which would be great any other night, but most of their songs focus on a theme of “fuck that guy,” and man do I feel that more now than ever. With each song, I clutch harder to my drink. I want to get out of here. It’s not fun. The whole place reminds me of Luke. The wings, the bar, and even the crowd look exactly the same to me.
This is his world. It’s always been his world. He invited me into it.
I didn’t know I wasn’t being invited to stay forever.
I can’t ask Jolene to leave, though. She’s having the time of her life, flinging her blonde hair around, screaming along to the lyrics. It takes me out of my own grief for a moment here and there.
However, halfway through the set, the lights dim, and the musicians come to the front of the stage for an acoustic set. The first song is a haunting ballad. They’ve broken out a cello for the song, plangent and tragic. I feel tears coming to my eyes.
“Need another drink?” I say in Jolene’s ear.
She nods, her eyes glued to the band.
I am able to wade my way through the crowd, my heart beating with each step. It’s suffocating here.
The exposure therapy isn’t working.
I need another drink.
I belly up to the bar against the back wall and catch the attention of a bartender.
Purple hair. She served me the first night I was here, and I remember her at the honkytonk too.
Fuck, this night is like déjà vu.
“What can I get you?”
“Another Yellow Rose,” I say. “And a shot of . . . something.”
She quirks her eyebrow. “You look familiar.”
Please, I wish I didn’t.
With a snap of her fingers, she places me. “Luke’s girlfriend, right?”
“Ha, yeah. I don’t know about girlfriend , but . . .”
Purple hair gets a serious expression. “Say no more. Yellow Rose and shot coming up.”
She works quickly, snatching a bottle of whiskey from a high shelf and pouring a shot. She slides it over to me. “You need the good stuff.”
I try to laugh. “You didn’t have to—”
“Oh, I did. Trust me. I know how Luke can be.”
I swallow. “You and Luke have . . .”
“No, no. But we’ve known each other for a long time. I’ve seen the shit he gets up to. Of course, it’s been a while since he’s broken a heart, but if you’re the latest, I’m sorry. I thought he was really getting serious.”
I take the shot instead of responding. The whiskey doesn’t burn nearly as much as I’d like it to as it slides down my throat.
The bartender works on making my Yellow Rose, managing to field conversation with me as she does. “You know, men in this industry are commitment-phobes. When they’re ready, they’ll just pick a woman and decide they’re ready. It’s ridiculous.”
“He seemed pretty ready to me,” I say, glancing back at the stage where the cellist is really going to town, sawing at her instrument.
“Well, maybe he is, but he scared himself. Isn’t that what happens with men? They always talk themselves out of a good thing.” She places the drink in front of me. I unzip my fanny pack and fish out my wallet.
“On the house, babe.”
I shake my head. “No, really, I—”
“I insist. It’s not every day Luke Wyatt fucks up.”
It’s nice to know I’m not the only one who thinks so.
“Just know, he’ll be fine without you. I’m sure if you go off and live your own beautiful life, he’ll realize one day you’re the one that got away. They always do.”
I try to smile and thank her, but all I manage is a grimace and a nod of my head.
He’ll be fine without me.
Austin will be fine without me.
Hell, what do I have going for me here, anyway? No job and no prospects. I’m just a person in a sea of people. At least back in Chicago, I own those streets. Here, I’ll walk around and see Luke everywhere I go. Especially if I start doing event photography, I’ll be in his world, having to deal with the memories of us and his ghosts.
Above it all, maybe I should give up the ghost. He lied. He betrayed my trust.
From the beginning it was wrong.
So, I’m going to make life right again.