I wasn’t sure when I shut my eyes, but I opened them to the sun filling the bedroom. It was strange to wake up and not have the feeling of a sledgehammer crashing against the front of my skull. Or my mouth bone dry from all the whiskey the night before.

It was also strange to look down and see Rose’s head on my chest. I touched her hair and my heart skipped enough beats to make me wonder if I was dead. And this was some kind of in between stage of life and death. Living everything that would have been my greatest dream.

Slowly, I rolled Rose to my right. She stirred but didn’t wake. She nestled her cheek against the pillow with a soft purring sound. I felt a tearing sensation in my chest, the kind of pain that told me I was still alive. That’s all I knew inside my chest. Pain.

I leaned forward and kissed Rose’s cheek. I purposely ran the tip of my nose to her hair to smell her. A little sweat and her shampoo. I liked the smell of the sweat better because it reminded me of the night before. Stone cold sober, loving Rose’s beautiful body over and over. I couldn’t tell myself the last time I had sex without being stupid drunk. Without getting halfway through it as though it were a chore and have my eyes start to shut. How many times I would fall asleep mid-fuck. Wake up the next morning wondering what had happened to end the night. Or just losing all ambition, blaming it on whiskey dick, able to talk my way out of whatever situation I had gotten into.

Not with Rose. She deserved all I had to give and that’s what she got.

At least between the sheets. Everywhere else in life…

I slid out of the bed and found my clothes. Boxers and jeans on, I crept from the bedroom and helped myself to the kitchen to make us some coffee.

Halfway through brewing, the apartment door opened.

“You said you were going… whoa.”

I froze in place and watched as two women walked into the apartment.

“Morning,” I said.

“Uh, good morning,” the other woman said.

“Who are you?” the first woman asked. “And are you here for me?”

“Or me?” the other asked.

“He’s here for me,” a third voice said.

I turned my head and there was Rose with a sheet wrapped around her body. I slipped an arm around her and pulled her close.

“Holy shit,” the first woman said.

“That’s not fair,” the second said. “I want one.”

“How was your night?” Rose asked.

“I’m guessing nowhere near as good as yours,” the first woman said.

I just took it in, eyebrow raised.

“This is Foster,” Rose said. “Foster, this is Becca and Karly.”

“Wait,” Karly said. “This is Foster?”

“The Foster?” Becca asked.

“The one and only,” I said. I looked at Rose. “So you’ve been talking about me?”

“Only when I drink too much wine,” Rose whispered.

“Wow,” Karly said. “Hello, Foster.”

“Can you two give us privacy?” Rose asked.

“I think you’ve both had enough privacy,” Becca said.

“I made some coffee,” I said.

Rose scratched at my back. “Bedroom. Please.”

I winked at her. “Of course, Rose.”

“Bye, Foster,” Karly said.

“Nice to meet you both,” I said.

“Put some music on to drown out the screams,” Becca said.

They both started to laugh.

Rose’s cheeks were bright red.

Back in the bedroom, Rose shut the door and locked it. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. You said you had roommates.”

“Yeah, I did. I, uh, that was weird.”

“Not for me,” I said.

“Of course not. You have three women eye humping you.”

“Yeah, but only one women gets to really hump me,” I said.

Rose laughed. “You’re smooth, Foster.”

I eased my body against hers, pinning her to the door. “So, should I turn on the music? To drown out the screams?”

“Easy,” Rose whispered. “I’m going to go grab a shower first.”

“Maybe I can join you.”

“Ah, right. Conserve water.”

“Exactly. I’m all about saving the world, Rose.”

She laughed and pushed me away. “You know where to find me.”

I watched her open the bedroom door.

She paused and looked back.

There was this moment where our eyes locked tight. We didn’t say a word to each other. But we both knew exactly what that moment was.

It was our goodbye.

* * *

I sat on the edge of the bed as my phone rang.

Jess.

I ignored the call, but I knew a message would be coming next.

I should have been naked but I was fully dressed. I heard the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. I imagined the water hitting Rose’s body. Her hands touching her wet skin. Enjoying a hot morning shower after a night of hot… you know…

The thing with me being alone in her room was that I could breathe in the moment without the distraction of Rose herself. To take in her life and what she had done and where she was going. It wasn’t a pity party for myself, believe me. It was just reality.

My phone buzzed.

Foster, please. At least talk to me this morning. Since we’re sober.

I gritted my teeth. I couldn’t be pissed that much at Jess. She was right… most of the time, anything that happened in our relationship was when we were drunk. Except I wasn’t drunk last night. And what happened, I would do it again. Over and over. No matter how many hearts I shattered along the way. If it got me a night with Rose…

I walked to the bedroom door and opened it.

The apartment was quiet. Rose’s roommates were somewhere in their rooms or had gone out again. I walked the hallway and put a hand to the bathroom door. The shower running. Rose - my Rose - in there.

Hey Rose, I’m sorry I had to leave. I’m sorry I left forever waiting in the empty bed. I’m sorry you can still smell me on your pillow. I’m sorry I never gave myself the chance to hurt you again.

I put my hand to my mouth and walked away.

I told myself I was going to talk to Jess and then get back in touch with Rose.

I’d see Rose again, but not like this. It would be casual. A head nod. A quick smile. A quicker wave. Or just pretend that we didn’t exist to each other.

Jess told me she had a drinking problem and was going to find help. She suggested the same for me. Only I didn’t have a drinking problem. I had a Rose problem. I had a heart problem. I had a falling in love problem. I had a worry about my past problem.

I started the day in bed with Rose, feeling whole.

I ended the day with a bottle of whiskey, promising myself it would be okay, knowing it was a lie, and feeling empty.