Mr. O’Malley brings out a traditional Irish cream cake and starts singing to Cole. He turns red and tries to hide his face, but Alex doesn’t allow it. I pull out my phone and videotape his embarrassment, something I’ll save for later when he’s pissing me off. Secretly, we all know Cole loves the attention he’s getting and when he blows out his candle he’s smiling like he just won a Grammy.
With Cole’s cake boxed up and Alex’s pleads to go dancing, we reluctantly leave our table. I’m hoping to call it a night when we get back to our place. At least that is my goal. I’m just not in the dancing mood tonight. I follow behind Alex, with Cole leading the way. Alex pulls up short, causing me to ram right into her, breaking open the box holding the rest of Cole’s cake.
“What the hell, Alex?”
She turns and looks at me. She’s whiter than I’ve ever seen her dark complexion get. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she’s playing a corpse in some horror thriller.
“What’s wrong? Are you sick?”
She clenches my arms tightly and my mouth drops open in pain, but don’t want to say anything to cause alarm. Whatever has her spooked is doing quite a number on her.
“We should walk out the back.”
“Um, no,” I say. “My coat is up front where I always put it. What’s your problem?”
She looks over her shoulder, shaking her head before looking back at me. Her eyes are sad and for the life of me I can’t understand why. She steps aside, taking the broken cake box from my hands. I look in the general direction and see nothing out of the ordinary.
Along the wall, the booths are patrons, which is normal for a Friday night. Others line the bar, a few of them yelling at the TV and some basketball game is on. With the clank of the pool table, I look over there for any clue as to what would make Alex freak out like this.
It doesn’t take long, just the mere look in his eyes, to know why she stopped the way she did. He stands there in a dark t-shirt and jeans, looking far different from what I remember. His hair is shorter, but his arms… they’re large and defined with muscles. His shirt is tight enough to show that he’s definitely changed over the years.
I’m afraid to move or even blink. He stares right back as he holds the pool cue in his hand. My gaze is broken when she comes into the picture. She leans up on her tiptoes and whispers something in his ear that makes him smile. Who knew that witnessing such an act would make my heart ache so terribly? I bite my bottom lip hoping to keep my emotions in check. Her hand rests on his arm as she looks at me. She’s telling me everything I need to know. They’re together.
I can’t look anymore and tear my eyes away. I don’t know what I’m doing. One half wants to forget that I even saw him. The other half wants to walk over there and ask how he’s doing and how long he’s been in New York. Surely, if we were frequenting the same bar, we’d run into each other. But then I remember I didn’t go out for a long time so I could get my life in order. I make the best decision for me and take a step toward him.
His eyes don’t leave mine as he watches me take step after step to get to him, closer to him. His friends continue on with their game, ignoring what’s going on in this imaginary bubble that I’ve created. I size him up the closer I get and can’t believe how much he’s grown and how much I miss the baby face that he had. He’s all man now, an adult and it shows.
He hasn’t moved and doesn’t motion for us to sit down or anything. Maybe this is a mistake and he’s going to dismiss me like I did him. As much as it would hurt, I deserve it. That is another thing therapy taught me.
I have to fight every ounce of my body’s will to keep from jumping into his arms. He wouldn’t catch me. He’d let me fall flat on my face and maybe offer a hand to help me up. I’m nothing to him except a reminder of mistrust and pain.
But I’m going to take a chance because I have to know if he’s the one.
“Hi.” I close my eyes and mentally chide myself for being ridiculous. Hi seems like such a simple thing to say and for this situation I need something profound and worthy of a response.
I look behind me and find Cole and Alex sitting at the bar. They aren’t watching me fumble through this meeting. They're letting me fall on my ass without an audience.
I clear my throat and try again. “Hi, Ryan, it’s good to see you.”
His eyes rake over my body, up and down, back and forth. His lower lip is being torn apart as he gnaws on it. I so desperately want to reach out and pull it out of his mouth and soothe it with my touch, but I lost that right a long time ago.
“I never thought I’d see you again.” His words stab me right in my heart. He’s right. Why would he have any thought of ever seeing me again after what I did to him?
This isn’t a conversation I want to have in a crowded pub with people lingering around listening but pretending not to. I nod and acknowledge that yeah, I didn’t expect to see him either.
“You look really good.” He looks down at himself and back at me. There is no hint of happiness in the way he’s talking to me.