Authors: Natalie K Martin
‘I’m thinking maybe you’ve had enough,’ Melissa replied, raising her eyebrow. Adam smirked, slid the glass towards her and watched as she filled it with more whisky.
She handed it back to him, and he tilted it towards her. ‘Cheers.’
He knocked it back in one go and gritted his teeth as it
cascaded
down his throat and burned in his chest.
Melissa looked at him with her eyes full of concern. ‘How are you doing?’
He hadn’t intended on telling her about what had happened. The first time he went in, he’d had a quiet pint, just as he’d wanted, but with each visit, the alcohol loosened his tongue; one word
followed
another. They’d always had an easy tone to their conversations, and her soothing Australian accent was nice. All he’d said was that he and Sarah had split up, and he didn’t really know why. He didn’t tell her about the proposal, though. He didn’t want the whole world to know how he’d been rejected.
‘It’s weird. I thought we were solid, but it’s all just evaporated.’ His words slurred together as he frowned, looking into the bottom of his glass.
‘Everything happens for a reason – “Plenty of fish in the sea” and all that.’
Adam grimaced. ‘I hate clichés.’
If everything happened for a reason, then what was the reason for their break-up? Simply not wanting a relationship after being in one for almost a year, one that was serious enough to warrant taking the next step and living together, wasn’t a valid reason – not to his mind. He’d given Sarah everything, and she’d thrown it back in his face. He’d never mistreated her or given her any reason not to trust him. He’d opened himself up to her, and she’d humiliated him in return.
‘I agree they’re totally cringeworthy, but they help.’
‘Nah. I can be realistic without getting all sappy about it. She clearly wasn’t happy being with me for whatever reason. End of.’ If only saying the words made it true.
‘You don’t give yourself enough credit. You might act like a dick-swinging Jack the Lad sometimes, but you’re one of life’s good guys.’
‘Yeah well, you know more about me than you do about her. You’re biased.’
Melissa laughed. ‘Course I am.’
Adam looked to his right to see one of the rugby regulars approaching the bar. They were friendly enough and always lifted the atmosphere, but tonight their roars of overly enthusiastic laughter were irritating. The rugby player slammed his big, calloused hands down on the bar and grunted a greeting at him. Adam nodded back, hoping he wouldn’t try to engage him in sport-related chitchat. He wasn’t in the mood.
‘What’s a guy got to do to get a drink around here?’ the rugby player asked with a deep, heavy voice.
Melissa flicked her eyes towards the ceiling and grinned at Adam. ‘Guess I’d better go shower someone else with my attention.’
As Melissa swapped banter with the big-handed rugby player, high-pitched female laughter rippled from a corner of the pub, and
Adam turned his head towards a group of women huddled around a high-standing ta
ble. One of them looked directly at him and smiled. She was cute. If he were single, he’d have offered to buy her a drink without a second thought.
If
he were single? He half-laughed at himself. Technically, he was free to do what he wanted. Once upon a time, that would have been enough, but he’d changed since he’d met Sarah, in many ways for the better. Now, the thought of being with anyone else but her simply didn’t compute. He wondered if it ever would.
He tasted whisky at the back of his throat, and his stomach turned. It was time to go. He needed to stop drinking, and the only thing he’d eaten was a rubbery cheese sandwich he’d forced down for lunch. He waved goodbye to Melissa and stepped out into the cold air. A scowl set onto his face as he zipped up his jacket and set off towards the chip shop, feeling his mood darken with every step.
For the last two weeks, he’d been sleeping on the sofa since he’d never got round to building the wooden bed they’d bought for the spare room, but his back couldn’t take much more. He’d sort it out tonight. To think he’d actually contemplated moving his things into the spare room as some kind of gesture of goodwill. Sod that.
Sh
e
could stay in the spare room. She was the one who’d ended it and thrown it all away. She was the one who had turned her back
on him, and he was damned if he was going to be walked over any longer.
An hour and a half later, he sat on the sofa eating his chips.
Reheating
them in the microwave made them taste like cardboard, but he’d been so preoccupied that the plan to soak up the alcohol with food had taken second place. As he squirted more ketchup onto the side of his plate, the front door slammed. He popped a chip into his mouth, put his plate on the coffee table and turned down the volume of the television to concentrate on the sound of Sarah’s footsteps. She went from the main bedroom to the spare room and back again, before returning to the spare room. After a few seconds of silence, he shrugged and turned the volume back up.
Sarah eventually came into the living room, and he looked up at her. She still had her coat on, and her hair was wet from the rain outside.
‘What’s going on?’
‘With what?’ he said and turned back to face the television.
‘Why is my stuff in the spare room?’
‘Oh, yeah. I put the bed up, and you were late back, so I moved your things for you.’
‘Adam, you’ve literally thrown my stuff all over the floor.’
He shrugged.
‘My clothes, my shoes, my paperwork – everything.’
He looked at her standing in the doorway with her arms crossed. ‘Don’t be so dramatic. You always rearrange things after I clean up anyway, so what difference does it make? Someone had to sort things out, and it obviously wasn’t going to be you. Performing some kind of maid service wasn’t a top priority.’
‘It’s not about maid service. It’s just—’
‘It’s just what? What the fuck else was I supposed to do? Move my stuff just to make you feel better? When you dumped me without even so much as explaining why, you clearly didn’t give a damn about my feelings, so I’m done giving a shit about yours.’
She stared back at him and blinked. He’d never sworn at her before. He could usually keep a hold on his emotions, but her coldness was ridiculous. How could she be more concerned about her clothes being on the floor than the end of their relationship? He’d known that moving her belongings like that would provoke a reaction; he just hadn’t expected it to be like this. He’d hoped that she’d come home, see the switch around and finally be jolted out of her Ice Queen stance, but she was still as cold as she had been ever since he’d proposed.
‘Fine, whatever. But you should know you’re acting like a total arsehole.’
‘And you’re acting like a heartless bitch, so I guess we’re even.’
Sarah left the living room, and Adam turned his attention back to the television. He winced as she slammed the door to her new bedroom shut. Maybe that was a bit harsh. He shouldn’t have sworn at her like that, but his self-protection barriers were coming up one by one. And yeah, maybe he should have taken more care with her things instead of throwing everything in a heap on the floor, but there was no denying it had felt good. Damn good.
4.
A
dam, you have got to snap out of this.’ Jenny scowled.
Adam could see her lips moving, but the words sounded far away, as if he were underwater. Friday night poker was well underway, and he was on course to getting steaming drunk.
Sitting
at the large rectangular dining table, he looked around the room. There was no denying that Carl’s bachelor pad was better suited than his place. There was more room, for a start. Bottles of Jack Daniel’s and Grey Goose vodka sat at the far end of the table, and cigarette packets were thrown into a loose pile along with a
multicoloured
array of crisp packets and empty pizza boxes. Carl was notoriously anal about tidiness, but he’d opened the door to his apartment in Crouch End and allowed the poker-related carnage to take place with nothing less than a smile on his face.
The fact that there was a noticeable air of tension in Adam’s flat provided the definitive reason as to why their poker night had moved to this desirable corner of North London, but it should be his table littered with booze, fags and junk food. It should be him waving his tipsy mates home in the small hours of the morning before falling into bed beside his girlfriend with a stupidly satisfied smile on his face. How times had changed.
‘I still don’t get how you’ve managed to get no answers from her at all,’ Jenny said.
‘It’s not as if I haven’t tried.’ Adam threw his cards on the table. At this rate, he’d be going home with considerably less money in his wallet than he came with.
‘You should tell her to move out.’
‘Jen has a point,’ Carl said, keeping his eyes firmly on his hand. ‘It’s not good, you two still living together.’
‘I’m not about to use my savings to pay her share of rent on a flat I can be out of in a couple of months. What else am I supposed to do? Throw her out and live like a pauper until the lease is up? Neither of us can afford to stay there alone.’
‘It’s a tricky one,’ Matt said. ‘What’s your landlord saying?’
‘Exactly what I knew he would. We can leave, but the deposit won’t be returned unless we stay until the end of the minimum term. Neither of us can afford to lose that amount of money, so we’re basically stuck. You’d think I’d have thought to negotiate the break-clause down. I deal with this crap every day of the week.’
‘Well, it’s not like you planned to split up, is it? As far as I can see, you’ve done nothing wrong. I could wring her bloody neck,’ Jenny said.
‘Bit much, no?’ Matt replied.
Jenny shrugged and stubbed out her cigarette in the glass
ashtray
on the table. ‘I just can’t believe you’re being so nice to her after what she’s done to you, that’s all.’
‘Yeah well, I think Mr Nice Guy exited the building the other night. I moved her stuff into the spare room a few days ago, and it did not go down well.’
Jenny smirked and raised her eyebrow. ‘It’s about time too. Don’t let her think she can walk all over you, the silly cow.’
‘I feel for you, mate. The sooner you get out of there, the
better
,’ Carl said.
Adam nodded, but when he’d woken up the next morning, he’d felt awful for swearing at her like he did. He couldn’t throw her out. Her name was on the lease too, and even if it wasn’t, it wouldn’t make any difference. He wasn’t a total arsehole, despite what Sarah thought. Of course his mates had offered their spare rooms and sofas, but if he still had to pay rent on his flat, then what was t
he point?
‘Maybe it’s for the best anyway. When I think about it, I don’t really know that much about her.’
‘Like what?’ Matt asked.
‘Just stuff. Like, why she never speaks about her family. I don’t think I’ve ever heard her speak to her mum or any other family members for that matter. And she’s not been up to Sheffield since we’ve been together.’
‘So she’s not tight with her family; it’s not that strange,’
Matt said.
‘I guess not. But you know what is? I don’t even know if she
has
brothers or sisters.’
‘Are you serious?’ Carl asked, and Adam nodded. ‘You’ve been together for this long, and you don’t know if she has brothers
or sisters?’
‘I know, but whenever I asked her about it, she just said she’s not in touch with them, and that’s as far as she’d go. I never realised before now how weird that is.’
How the hell had he managed to fall in love with someone he knew next to nothing about? She’d morphed into someone he barely even recognised, and he was starting to think he’d fabricated her character, seeing things as he wanted to see them instead of seeing them as they really were.
‘Sounds shady to me,’ Jenny said. ‘If she couldn’t even tell you the simplest of things, you’d never have lasted anyway. I don’t know what kind of world she’s living in, but she can’t just go around behaving the way she has.’
‘We all know what you think, Jen.’ Adam stood up and went into the kitchen.
He rinsed his glass, filled it with water and took a large gulp. He’d had enough of talking about it. It was bad enough that he’d taken to listening to Adele on repeat like a sad case. Even admitting that to himself made him cringe. He heard footsteps behind him and turned to see Jenny.
‘I’m going to head off,’ he said.
‘Why? Things are just about to get going.’
He shrugged. ‘I’m not in the mood. I’m playing like shit anyway.’
‘Look.’ Jenny sighed. ‘I’m sorry for going off on one. It just makes me so angry, seeing you like this. I can’t believe how she’s treated you. It’s the last thing I would have expected her to do. I really liked her.’
‘I know you did.’
Jenny came across as being tough, but it was all a front. She could have an acid tongue when she put her mind to it, and his past girlfriends had never really taken to her, but it was different with Sarah. They weren’t best friends or anything, but they were more than just two people tolerating each other because of their mutual link to him.
‘Don’t go. I promise not to say another word about it tonight, but we’re your best mates, Ad. We just want what’s best for you.’
They’d all known each other since they were kids, and had always stuck by each other. When Carl was thrown from his motorbike, they’d taken turns keeping him company in the hospital. When Matt and his fiancée, Alice, had their baby girl, they’d all been made godparents. They’d all given Jenny a shoulder to cry on when she’d lost her mum to cancer. They were tight.
‘I know, but what’s best for me right now is to not talk about Sarah. I’m sick to death of it.’
‘Fine. Whatever you want.’
‘I mean it. Not a word.’
Jenny grinned. ‘Cross my heart, hope to die.’
Three hours later, he staggered up his road, focusing on walking straight. Once they’d stopped talking about his problems, he’d loosened up and actually started to enjoy himself. He’d been so
distracted
with what was happening to him recently that he’d taken little interest in what was going on with his friends. Matt’s
daughter
had just started walking, Carl had finally finished restoring the clapped out Ford Capri he’d bought a year ago, and Jenny was closer to completing on her new flat. Life had gone on while he’d spent every day moping with the question
Why?
stuttering around in his head like a scratched CD.
His road was quiet. At just past 2.00 a.m., most people were probably in bed or getting sweaty in nightclubs. He approached the detached redbrick and looked up at the flat. The living room light was on – Sarah was still up. The walk from the bus stop had sobered him a little, but he still had to concentrate on getting his key in the lock. He hung his jacket on the coat stand and kicked his trainers off. Should he go straight to bed or stick his head around the door and say hello? In the four days since their argument over the spare room, the atmosphere between them had turned decidedly frosty, and it was a constant balancing act between trying to stay civil and keeping his distance.
He slowly opened the living room door, and his shoulders sagged with relief. She was asleep. The television was on, but the volume was so low he could barely hear it. He looked at her sleeping peacefully on the sofa.
His frustration at their situation was compounded by the inescapable fact that he missed her. Even the annoying things she did, like insisting on sleeping with a window open, even if it was freezing outside, or how she’d tidy things up before he’d even finished using them. He’d got used to her little quirks, but now, the same woman he’d excitedly kissed after signing the lease might as well be a stranger. He should never have proposed. If he hadn’t, they’d probably still be together, and he’d be able to lie next to her and slip his arm across her waist.
Her chest rose and fell steadily as she slept with an arm covering her eyes, as if she was shielding them from the light. After sleeping on that sofa himself, he knew she would wake up with a sore neck at the very least. If things were normal, he’d wake her up by planting soft kisses across her neck and collarbone, which was, she’d told him once, one of her favourite feelings in the world. Adam swallowed as warmth rushed down his belly to his groin. If only. He sighed, switched off the living room light and went to bed.
He couldn’t sleep. The sex drive that had abandoned him since Santorini had returned, and now he was remembering the tickly feeling of her hair against his chest and her small, brown nipples dangling in his face when she’d go on top. He remembered the warmth of her mouth when she’d woken him up with a blow job, and how she’d looked up at him with her big eyes. He moved his hand down to his boxers, wishing it could have been Sarah’s instead.
A few hours later, he propped himself against the boot of his car and strapped on his shin pads.
‘You look rough, mate,’ Carl said, throwing him a bottle of water. Adam just about managed to catch it.
‘I swear hangovers get worse and worse each time.’
Carl grinned. ‘Sign of getting old, that. You all right to play?’
‘Of course. When have I ever not been okay to play?’ He took a gulp of water. It was hardly the Champions League, but everyone still took it seriously, and it was as good a hangover cure as any.
‘With the amount you put away last night, I’m surprised your liver didn’t try to escape.’
Adam raised his eyebrows. ‘Seriously?
You’re
lecturing
me
about alcohol?’
‘No, I’m impressed,’ Carl replied as he pulled his Arsenal shirt over his head. ‘You’ll be doing it all over again soon. Nick’s back from Afghanistan in a couple of weeks, and I was thinking we should go out on a mad one, get all the lads together and make a proper night of it.’
Adam puffed out his cheeks. ‘It’s been six months already?’
‘Yep. So we need to welcome him back in style.’
‘Definitely.’ Adam nodded. ‘It’ll be great to have him back.’
‘So he can get back to being my annoying brother? Yeah, I suppose.’ Carl shrugged, but Adam knew he was grateful for his
brother’s
safe return. ‘A night out might do you some good too. It might get you out of this funk about Sarah.’
‘How’s that, then?’
‘Rule number one: The best way to get over a woman is to get inside another one, my friend.’
Adam shook his head but couldn’t stop the smile twitching at his lips. ‘Crude as always, Carl.’
Carl shrugged as they walked out onto the AstroTurf. ‘It might be crude, but it’s also very true, and if I know you, you must be in dire need of getting laid by now.’
‘Yeah, you’re not wrong there.’ Adam nodded and winced. The painkillers hadn’t kicked in yet.
He’d jerked off, thinking about his ex-girlfriend whom he’d watched sleeping on the sofa in their shared flat. It was a sentence that was wrong on so many levels, but it had made him realise that if he wanted intimacy, it wouldn’t be with Sarah. A night out wouldn’t fix everything, but it was a good way to start.