Chapter Seven
Luke
It seemed like a good idea at that time, a text to see what she was up to. In reality, I was just missing her and under the influence of Evan’s insistence that Jack Daniel’s would make me forget her.
Days later, though, that unanswered text on my phone stings worse than the final goodbye. She’s really done. Those years together weren’t the building of forever.
I suppose that’s really my fault, though, because I wasn’t living like I was playing for forever. I messed it up, and it’s no one’s fault but my own.
They say heartbreak makes for good songs, but standing at the corner of Montgomery and Fifth Avenue, I don’t really feel like the songs are great tonight. My guitar case is open as I stand in front of Dot’s Doughnuts. Usually, after a night of playing to the sparse crowds, Lila standing nearby watching with a smile, we’d go inside, order our favorites, and chat up Dot.
Not tonight, though. Things are different now. Here I stand, just a singing wannabe, strumming on my guitar, playing a sad song that even I can tell isn’t quite right. A few stragglers take pity and toss a buck into the guitar case. This doesn’t make me happy, though. This was never about money. It was about being heard. It was about my passion for it.
Lila was the one who inspired me to keep singing. Her smile at my song, the look in her eyes as I played her favorite, that was what I did it for.
Now, standing here, just a lonely guy with an unanswered text on his phone, I don’t feel like there’s even a point. I pack up early and hurriedly wave to Dot without going in. I can’t face the prospect of a table for one tonight. I can’t sit there with my three peanut-butter glazed doughnuts alone, remembering how we’d always share the third one, breaking it exactly down the middle but still fighting over the best half. I can’t stand the thought that life without her is empty and pointless.
I can’t stand the fact I did this to us.
More than that, I can’t stand the fact that my damn pride or my messed-up family or whatever else a psychologist would say is standing in my way won’t let me back down. Because as much as I miss her, I can’t find it in me to give in and admit I was wrong. I can’t find it in me to want to change things, to be the Luke she deserves and to map out the path to a future she needs.
“Screw it all,” I say as I put my hood up and lug my guitar case back to Evan’s, not home but home for now.
***
“What the hell is that, Luke? Are you serious?” Evan exclaims the next morning when I call him out to the front of the apartment building to check out my new ride.
I’ve traded in the ancient Ford for a bit of an upgrade—a Dodge Charger.
“How the hell are you affording it? I mean, you’ve been working on some roofing jobs, but Jesus, if it’s that profitable, maybe I should come work with you,” Evan says, staring at the glossy paint and shaking his head.
I shrug. “I took out a loan.”
“Can you make the payments?”
I smile from the driver seat. “Settle down. I can still make rent, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“So is this your plan? Buy a babe-magnet car?”
“No. My plan is that I always wanted one, and Lila said it was too expensive.”
“So it’s a ‘fuck you, Lila.’ I see,” Evan says, hopping in the passenger seat to check out the interior.
“No. It’s not like that.”
“I think it’s sort of like that.”
I shake my head as Evan turns up the radio and demands I take him for a ride so we can see what the top speed is.
I drive through town and find the highway exit, slamming my foot on the gas pedal and driving like a bat out of hell, Evan cheering me on.
As we fly by the other cars and the scenery becomes a blur, I think about how good it feels to let go. The payments are ludicrous and it wasn’t wise, but wise was never my thing. That was hers. She was the one who helped me budget and helped us save for the future.
But the future’s screwed now, so I might as well have a little fun, right?
“Let’s go out tonight,” I say, and Evan looks like he’s seen a ghost.
“Are you serious?”
“I’m serious. Luke Bowman isn’t done just yet. You’re right. We’re young. Let’s get out there.”
Evan lets out what can only be classified as a rebel yell, and I run a hand through my hair as I slow down to a normal, civilian-like pace.
Evan talks a mile a minute about hot places, good times, and sexy women, but I don’t hear him.
That’s sort of the point, though. I don’t want to hear anything, feel anything. I want to just be, to just breathe, and to maybe just have some fun away.
The Luke I was with Lila is gone. I’m back to the old Luke, the I-don’t-give-a-shit Luke. I’m back to the guy I was before her, just with a little less belief in love and a little more heartbreak. I’m the badass who was one choice away from making a huge mistake. I’m the rebel without a cause who was one bill away from financial ruin.
I know I should care. I’ve turned it all around these past few years with her.
But we all know how that turned out. So screw it.
I stomp on the accelerator again and fly down the road, not looking back.