Chapter Twenty-One
Cassie sat by herself at the bar. It was Halloween, and she’d gone out to Lawson’s because she was tired of sitting alone in her apartment, reliving her weekend with Blaine over and over. She rolled the beer glass between her hands and sighed.
Lawson’s wasn’t too busy, but there were a few people around. One was dressed as a skeleton; another was a lion. Cassie wasn’t wearing her beaver costume. It seemed weird to put on a costume to go to the bar to drink alone.
She sighed again. Her heart hurt just as much as it had last time, even though she was the one who’d walked away from Blaine. Still, she believed she’d done the right thing.
The door opened, and Darrell sauntered in. He said something to the skeleton before coming over to the bar.
“Cassie,” he said after the bartender handed him a pint. “What are you doing here on a Tuesday night?”
“It’s Halloween.” She lifted her glass. “I’m celebrating. Can’t you tell?”
He gave her a skeptical look. “Um…”
“What are you doing here on a Tuesday night?”
“I come here all the time. You know that. Lawson’s wouldn’t be the same without my smiling face several times a week.”
Darrell sat down on the stool beside hers. They’d been in the same year in school, but they’d never talked much. He was friends with Rachel, however.
“You want company?” he asked. “Or should I get lost?”
“You can stay. It’s less pathetic than drinking alone.”
“Heartbreak?” he said casually.
She snapped her head toward his. “Why would you say that?”
“Let’s see. A man I’d never seen before shows up at Jenna’s party, kisses you, and whisks you away. I don’t know, just guessing it has something to do with him.”
During that week she’d spent with Blaine, so long ago now, they’d hardly left her apartment. Certainly, no one had seen them making out. And no one had asked about him after he left. But this time…that kiss. So public. She touched her hand to her lips, remembering. It had only been four days ago, but it felt like a lifetime.
“You got it bad,” Darrell observed.
“And what would you know about that?”
“I’ve been heartbroken. Bunch of times. Hey, don’t look so surprised.”
It was just… Darrell seemed so easygoing and free. Slept with whoever he wanted to, didn’t get attached. She couldn’t quite reconcile that with him having been heartbroken.
There was a loud cheer from the pool table. She glanced over, then turned to the man beside her.
“Does he love you back?” Darrell asked.
“Yes. So he claims.”
“But you don’t believe him?”
“I believe him,” she said, “but I don’t believe it’ll last. He hurt me badly once before.”
“Asshole.”
She laughed. It felt good to have a friend.
Darrell turned to the bartender and ordered two shots of half rye, half tequila.
“One of those for me?” Cassie asked. “It sounds disgusting.”
“It is. But sometimes I’m in the mood for disgusting. You know what I’m saying?”
Not really.
The bartender set down two shot glasses in front of them. Darrell picked up one, and she picked up the other.
“Cheers,” he said, then downed his shot with a grimace.
She tipped her shot back, too. It was, indeed, disgusting. She gulped some beer to wash the taste out of her mouth.
“You bought me a drink,” she said. “Are you hitting on me?”
“Nah. I don’t think you want that right now. Plus you’re a good friend of Rachel’s, so it might be weird.” He grinned. “Not that I don’t appreciate the view.”
A bowl of trick-or-treat-sized candy sat on the bar, and she grabbed a Coffee Crisp. It was Halloween, and she was heartbroken. She could indulge herself.
Last night, she’d spent half an hour looking at herself in the mirror as she cried. She didn’t know why she’d felt the need to see herself become a snotty mess, but she had.
God, she missed him so much.
“Anyway. I’d give him another chance,” Darrell said. “Because if anyone I loved actually loved me back, I would jump at it. Then again, you probably shouldn’t take advice from me.” He had a sip of beer. “You know what I should do? Lend you Biscuit for the weekend.”
“Biscuit? Your very manly dog?”
“Yep. She’s adorbs.”
Cassie rolled her eyes.
“Seriously. She’ll cheer you up. It’s hard to be completely down in the dumps when you have a fluffy maltipoo slobbering on your leg. My father is supposed to look after her next weekend while I go to Toronto, but you could do it instead. Dad doesn’t like Biscuit, anyway.”
“Why not?”
“He thinks dogs should not be small enough to fit in a purse.”
Another laugh rose up from the pool table, and a bunch of high fives were exchanged.
“Well,” Darrell said, “I don’t think this ruminating suits me. I’m gonna try to get in on that pool game. Sounds like we’re missing out. You in?”
“Nah.” She shook her head. She’d just be a downer.
“Okay. Just let me know about Biscuit.”
He walked off toward the pool table. A minute later, he threw his head back and laughed.
Cassie looked down at her beer. She was getting a bit of a buzz. This was her second pint, and she’d had a shot, as well. Geez, this really wasn’t like her.
The first time she’d been heartbroken over Blaine, she hadn’t ventured out in public much, other than for work, of course. No drinking alone at the bar. She’d occasionally stuffed her face with brownies at the bakery, but she’d nursed her heartbreak at home most of the time.
She reached over to the candy bowl for a box of Smarties—those had always been her favorite as a kid. She wondered about Blaine. What was his favorite Halloween candy?
Staring at the box in her hand, she was consumed by an awful feeling.
She loved the man.
It was useless to pretend otherwise.
…
When Blaine got home from work on Tuesday, he had a quick dinner, then put out the two jack-o-lanterns he’d carved the day before. They were, frankly, not very good. This was the first time he’d ever carved a pumpkin. Until this year, he’d lived in a condo, and kids didn’t go trick-or-treating down the hallway. But now he had a house.
He’d sketched rough plans for each jack-o-lantern before he started carving, but they hadn’t turned out as planned. Their faces were horribly lopsided.
That was okay. They were jack-o-lanterns, for God’s sake. It just made his house scarier.
Having no idea how many kids to expect, he’d bought three big boxes of candy, but that seemed excessive now. He sat near the door and tried to read while waiting for the next group of children. No one had come for more than ten minutes.
The doorbell finally rang, and he opened the door. The youngest kid—perhaps three years old—was a sheriff. The other kid, dressed in blue… Well, Blaine had no idea, and he wouldn’t ask. The last time he’d asked, the little girl had burst into tears. Mommy, he doesn’t know who I am!
The three year old looked at him warily, then turned and hurried away without saying, “Trick or treat.”
Shit. Did he really look that scary today?
Yes, he was in a bad mood, and he had dark circles under his eyes from not sleeping. But really?
Oh, great. The little sheriff was now crying. The mother gave Blaine a dark look, so he handed her a fistful of candy and shut the door. He sat down and opened his book, reading the words but not really comprehending what was going on in the story. There were aliens. Maybe they were green with seven eyes, maybe they were yellow with seven legs, maybe they wore necklaces made of ammonites. It all seemed meaningless.
He was struggling to get through each day in his Cassie-less existence. True, he’d been without her for a long time before this weekend…but now he’d tried to get her back, and she had rejected him.
Fuck.
He texted Matthew.
…
Blaine met Matthew at a nondescript bar the following night. Blaine ordered a beer, even though he didn’t particularly like beer. But if he went straight for hard liquor, he’d drink too much.
“So I take it you didn’t convince her to give you a chance,” Matthew said. “Sorry, man. Look, if you need any pointers on sex—”
“Shut up.”
“Ouch. You really are in a bad mood.”
“The sex was brilliant. I know she agreed.”
“Brilliant? What are you, British?”
“I’m told I look like Sherlock Holmes.”
“Were you trying for a British accent there? It sounded like… Oh, hell, I don’t know. Maybe a seal drowning off the coast of Scotland? A seal that had spent some time in Newfoundland, that is.”
Blaine just looked balefully at his friend.
“Sorry,” Matthew said. “I was hoping you’d laugh. But apparently, I’m not funny.”
“You’re not.”
“Thanks. I guess I can forgive you since you’re drowning your sorrows in beer, which isn’t like you at all. Why did she leave if the sex was, quote, ‘brilliant?’”
“She thinks there’s a one in three chance I’ll break her heart again.”
Matthew stared at him. “That’s exactly what she said? She assigned an actual number to it?”
Blaine nodded. “I asked her what she thought the odds were, and that was her answer. This was after we discussed our favorite dinosaurs.”
“How the hell does that—” Matthew shook his head. “So you love her.”
“Yes.”
“I suppose you must, since you spent all weekend together. Usually if you spend that much time with someone, you start crawling up the walls.”
True.
“Like the time a few of us went canoeing in Algonquin,” Matthew said. “You were ready to slam that paddle through my skull.”
“You wouldn’t shut up. We were in the middle of the park, and it would have been peaceful, but you were yakking away about some stupid TV show. Describing every episode.”
But now Matthew was quiet. They were both quiet for several minutes, occasionally taking sips of their drinks.
It was easier to talk about dinosaurs and canoeing trips than unrequited love.
He released a shuddering breath.
“You okay?” Matthew asked, patting his arm.
“Yeah. Kind of.”
“Are you going to try again with Cassie?”
Blaine shook his head. “If I couldn’t change her mind after the weekend we had, I don’t think there’s anything else I can do.”
She cared for him, yes, and she’d loved him once upon a time. But he’d hurt her too much for her to give him another chance. She’d made that clear.
Maybe one day, with another woman…
No. He couldn’t bear to think of being with anyone else. He only wanted Cassie, and he’d blown it.
“For what it’s worth,” Matthew said, “I believe you wouldn’t hurt her again, even if she doesn’t. But I’ve known you for more than fifteen years. She’s spent a mere ten days with you, with zero communication for over a year after day seven. You’re actually a stable, loyal, trustworthy person, but she doesn’t believe that about you, and I can understand why. It’s hard to show someone those things in a single weekend. If you find a way to do that, maybe she’ll change her mind.”
Blaine pondered this for a minute, and then it came to him. “You’re a genius.”
“I never thought I’d hear you say that.”
“You’re brilliant.”
“Or that.”
“I know what I need to do.” He slapped his friend’s shoulder. “Thanks.”
For the first time since Blaine had made that little sheriff cry, he felt a sliver of hope.