Chapter 36
Oscar
“She got nominated for an award.” Ruby’s voice billows in pride across the bar talking to one of the servers.
I don’t even have to listen further to know who she’s talking about. Every time I come in here she’s giving proud mama-like updates about Mare. She’s even gone to a few shows with Sadie.
At first it was unbearable, so I avoided coming in here at all costs.
The guys would want to come grab a bite after a game, or get bottle service, because it’s the only place that does that, and I was always busy or tired, or in desperate need of getting my dick wet.
Jax wasn’t having it though. Now he makes me come here, and honestly the more I endure the torture of hearing about how much she loves New York, the more I look forward to the updates. I want her to be happy. That’s why I let her go.
Curious about the award Ruby is so excited about, I pull up my phone and start doing a quick Google search.
That’s all it takes, and then article after article with her name across the headlines pop up. I don’t even know what exactly the award entails, I don’t have to. Pride, admiration, and heartbreak fill my heart and sit there side by side.
This is what I was afraid of if we stayed together. She’d have these big sweeping moments where she’d be accomplishing her dreams and I’d be here. I’d miss it.
I scroll through the articles and pictures of her and swallow the lump in my throat as it turns into something heavier, something that feels a lot like the truth settling in. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.
She’s still bigger than life, and I’m still here missing it. Still wishing I was there. The only difference is she’s not mine anymore.
I screenshot a few pictures and add them to the hidden album on my phone of all of her accomplishments over the past year.
Her first show performance.
The first time she was a headliner.
The first dance she choreographed as the lead.
Now this.
She’s been there a year, and according to Ruby, she’s done more in a year than most do in three. That’s not a surprise. Not only is she incredibly talented, she’s got a work ethic that’s unmatched, and a personality and face that are both irresistible.
As the night went on, my feelings shifted from a sad place to a dark place. I came home, drank way too much whiskey, and ate more shit than I can recall and drifted down the rabbit hole of her socials.
That’s where the despair kicked in, the aftermath of a picture with her and some tall guy that I can only assume she works with.
There are a lot of pictures of the two of them together at work events and shows.
But it’s the one of them laughing, mouths full of hotdogs on the street with the Statue of Liberty in the background that guts me.
Another one of them pointing at the Brooklyn Bridge dated a month after she moved there, makes my heart clench.
It absolutely shatters at the most recent one posted an hour ago on his page, tagging her in it, and it’s not just the idea that almost a year later, he’s still in the picture.
It’s that the picture is of the two of them toasting to celebrate her success—in what I can tell is her bed by the familiar pillows in the background.
The caption underneath the photo, “Here’s to you— I love having a front row seat!”
He can fuck right off, because that should be my seat. If I wasn’t such a fucking idiot. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought this would save us both heartache. Maybe it did for her, but for me, it’s even worse than the pain I imagined.
That’s why I called Pips, had her come here.
It’s also why I had to cuddle her until she fell asleep, while we watched reruns of Friends on Nick at Night.
It’s why I’m laying here feeling guilty as fuck that I’m thinking of Mare, while red curls are sprawled out across my chest, wishing they were a deep mahogany instead.
She stirs on my chest, and a part of me is hoping she’ll wake up and realize she can’t get enough sleep here, but a bigger part of me knows that’s not the truth.
It’s me that can’t make it through the night with her in my bed, so I grab my phone and slide her off my chest to move to the couch.
But tonight, this will be the only night she sleeps in my bed, because she’s all wrong.