Chapter 2 #2
Josh finally looked up and saw me hanging out by the door.
There wasn’t a record to scratch, but someone in the back did shatter a glass at that very moment. I found it very fitting and was briefly struck dumb.
He balanced both his forearms on the bar and leaned forward, squinting at me like I was a ghost. I let him have a minute to process before walking to the bar.
“Hi, Josh.” I sat on a stool.
“Well, well, well.” He crossed his burly arms. “They always come back.”
A laugh sputtered out of me, even and awkward. “Yeah, you’re right about that.”
Josh, still squinting his eyes, sighed and reached for a shot glass behind the bar. “You moving back for good?”
“I am.”
He poured two shots of whiskey before he slid one to me.
“Good.” He lifted his glass and tapped it against mine. “Cheers.”
I tipped the glass back, taking down the liquid with one swallow. Immediately, I dissolved into a coughing fit and stared at his still full shot glass. “That’s foul.”
“Yep.” A signature Josh grin slid on his face, one that revealed the dimple he used to hate. “The cheapest whiskey we have. Only broke college students order it.”
I nodded, despite the burning in my throat. He slid the other glass in my direction. I sighed before shooting it back. This time I didn’t succumb to a coughing fit, but it was close. That whiskey tasted like gasoline. “Fair enough.”
Josh offered me a glass of water, which I drank from eagerly. He leaned against the counter, arms crossed, giving me that familiar crooked grin.
“So,” he said casually, “what finally got you to move back?”
“Mom’s reopening the diner.”
“No shit!” His eyebrows shot up. “Mason’s Diner?”
I curled a hand around the glass, the condensation soaking into my palm. “The one and only.”
He let out a low whistle, shaking his head with a grin. “That brings back memories. Doing homework in the kitchen, trying to sneak champagne off the top shelf when your parents weren’t looking.”
“You mean you copying my homework and me sneaking us an entire bottle of sparkling cider because we were too chicken to go for the real stuff?”
“I may have cheated off you in school, which, by the way, got us both Cs, but I do understand adult problems pretty well.” His eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong with you?”
I leaned back in my chair. “Wow. You were born to be a bartender. Got the therapist act down and everything.”
Just then, the front door creaked open. Josh glanced up as a couple walked in and made their way to a corner booth. One of the new bartenders came hustling out from the back with menus in hand and took their orders.
Josh’s gaze lingered on the kid, who was already fumbling with the shaker. “Hang on,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Two seconds.”
He gently corrected the bartender, guiding him through the motions of making a martini like he was teaching someone to ride a bike. It was kind, patient—very Josh.
He returned a minute later and picked up right where we’d left off.
“Aimee doing okay, handling the opening without your dad?”
“Mom’s good,” I said, watching the ice clink against the side of my glass. “That’s not the problem.”
“What’s the problem, then?”
“I ran into Kira this morning.”
Josh froze mid-wipe of the counter, his cloth pausing on a water ring. “Ah…” He winced. “I take it that didn’t go well?”
“Not in the slightest.”
He rubbed a hand over his face. “I’ve seen her a few times recently, mostly with Macey and her other friends. She’s as kind as ever. I almost can’t picture her going off on you.”
I gave a humorless laugh. “Well, lucky you. Our very brief conversation ended with her telling me she never wanted to see me again.” I took another drink. “Nothing I didn’t deserve.”
Josh leaned against the bar, arms crossed loosely. “Don’t be unfair to yourself, man. Your family lost the diner, your dad’s health was in free fall, and you needed to make a good income for them. No one blames you for moving to work with your uncle.”
He studied me for a second before adding, “That said…you could’ve handled things with Kira better.”
Just then, the bartender reappeared with one untouched glass, looking sheepish.
Josh let out a slow exhale and muttered under his breath, “You’ve got to be kidding me.” He stepped away to intervene. “Did you write down the wrong order again? No, man—we talked about this. Come on.”
He left me alone momentarily with my sinking thoughts.
Although I tried to keep up with updates in Kira’s life—find me someone who didn’t Instagram stalk their ex—she didn’t share much online.
I always assumed things had gone exactly the way she’d planned: move into the city, go to art school, sell a bunch of successful paintings, and live happily ever after.
Her family never supported our relationship. Truthfully, I always thought she’d be way better off without me, anyways.
What if, I thought, with a hole tearing through my gut, things didn’t go as planned for her?
Josh returned, weariness drawing down his face. The bags under his eyes appeared darker, and he looked like he could use a very long nap. I was empathetic toward his situation. Owning a bar was probably as stressful, if not more, than owning a diner.
“Who knew it was so hard to find a capable bartender?” he joked.
I didn’t answer, instead asking a question of my own. “How is Kira?”
Josh had been a constant in my life just like Kira was. We were all neighborhood kids, though Kira’s parents didn’t love her hanging out with us past 5:00 p.m.
The two of them were friendly, or at least that’s how I remembered them. She used to tutor him in geometry on the school bus rides home, and he’d thank her with vending machine potato chips.
“I think she’s all right,” Josh said slowly, like he wasn’t sure how much to reveal. “She gave up on art, but don’t ask me why. Seems like she has a happy, successful life. Despite dating a few bad dudes.”
I focused on keeping a neutral face, despite the jealousy that burned like the whiskey. Kira had a right to date other people. “Who did she date?”
“There was Theo. The asshole cheated on her. Then later was Jae, who talked a lot of shit about her to anyone who would listen.”
“What did he say?”
Josh shifted uncomfortably, refusing to meet my eye. He plucked a stray thread from a nearby dish rag and answered, “He said a lot of things about her personality, that she was too uptight. But I think the worst part was he told everyone she was bad in bed. Distant and cold were the words he used.”
Kira, distant in bed? Cold? That couldn’t be farther from the truth.
The first time we slept together, she was nervous, but not any more than me.
Nerves were part of your first time. But once we burned through the nerves with slow kisses, she was passionate.
On fire. I’d never felt more alive or more wanted than when we were in bed together.
Those words would have devastated Kira. She’d put on a brave face, but it would have dismantled her from the inside.
Not for the first time, I wished I had stayed to be there for her. Stayed to explain things to her, to hold her hand when everything around us was falling apart. To at least say goodbye the right way.
“Her current boyfriend seems better,” Josh said with a shrug, “but it’s not like I know the guy or anything.”
A slow ache bloomed in my chest, dull and sharp all at once.
I hadn’t let myself think too hard about Kira moving on. The idea of her smiling at someone else the way she used to smile at me twisted something in my gut. I tried to push the thought down, but it clung to my ribs.
Josh leaned over the bar, lowering his voice. “Why do you ask?”
“No reason.”
“That grimace you made when I mentioned her boyfriend says otherwise.”
I sighed, forcing a casual tone. “I’m curious. Can’t an old friend check in?”
He gave me a long, pointed look. “You and Kira were never just friends. Don’t act like you don’t still want her back.”
I exhaled through my nose, gaze dropping to my drink. “She deserves better than me. Always did.”
Josh raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “If you really believe that, you’re more messed up than I thought.”
I stared at the ice melting in my glass, watching the waterline rise. “She might be the only woman I’ve ever loved, but if someone loves her in a better way than I ever could…I want her to have that. I want her to be happy. Even if it’s not with me.”
Josh didn’t say anything right away. He simply studied me as if trying to gauge how much of what I said was honest and how much was me trying to convince myself.
“You’re sure?” he asked eventually.
I opened my mouth to answer, but nothing came out at first. Instead, memories started crashing into me—Kira laughing at my terrible dance moves in the back of the diner, her curled up next to me during late-night closings, the way she used to look at me like I was her entire world.
Moments that had felt small then but now returned with the weight of everything I’d lost.
One memory floated up from the depths of my first tender, awkward kiss with Kira, just outside the dugout after we’d won the annual kickball tournament. Looking back, it was sweaty, hot, and far from picture-perfect. But in that moment, it felt like everything.
The shards in my brain started to fix themselves, attaching themselves to one another with some kind of sticky tack. Yes, a plan was forming—hazy, undefined—but it wasn’t what Josh expected.
The only thing that truly mattered was Kira’s happiness. Fulfillment was everything to her. If I could be certain she was on that path, then I would do exactly what she wanted: disappear from her life for good.
If I made sure that Kira was happy and that she was on the road to achieving everything she wanted, then I could let this all go.
“Hey,” I said, shifting gears as one of the lamps flashed a light in our direction. “Did you know I have bartending experience?”