Misery Business

“I just wanna say again that I’m―”

“Alex, you need to learn when to stop apologizing.”

They sat at the local bar, sitting awkwardly on the stools next to each other. It was odd; Victoria had waited for something along these lines since she saw Alex on the elevator that afternoon. And now, here she was, sitting and having a beer with her high school sweetheart, and not saying a damn thing. That also made her wonder: was this a―

No, this wasn’t a date. This couldn’t be a―

But what if it was?

She pushed those thoughts aside and falsely smiled Alex’s way. She could tell he still wanted to continue and he had more to say, but she honestly needed the apologies to stop. Sure, he made her cry and think she forgot about him. Sure, he upset her a lot this past week without even looking at her. She could go on for days about how this week was hell, but what she didn’t want was for those apologies to go on.

“I have one more thing to say.” He nervously ran his thumb along his empty beer bottle.

She sighed, tapping her own bottle. “Alright, what is it?”

“I hope you know that after all this―the seven years and this big awful week―that I still want to be friends with you again, Victoria. I miss you and I want us to be like we used to.” He furrowed his brow. “Well, not exactly how we used to be, but you get―”

“Wait, wait, wait,” she interrupted, her eyes turning to his. “You … you have a …” She didn’t want to say it. She didn’t want it to be true.

“Girlfriend? Yeah.” He cleared his throat, sensing the tension. “She kind of lives with me.”

Victoria looked down at the bottle in her hands, grinding her teeth in the process. “Fuck,” she whispered under her breath with an angered stare. “Did you ask me to the bar to toy with me?” She snapped. “Butter me up and apologize, make me think this was some kind of a date, and then tell me you have a girlfriend? That’s a new one.”

“Wait, you thought this was a date?” He frowned and looked away. “I didn’t mean for you to―” He sighed and tried backtracking his words once again. “Can we just start over?”

She kept her eyes trained on anything but his own. “No.”

“Hamilton,” he called, “c’mon.”

He knew she’d make a movement at the nickname. She slowly met his eyes, her lips forming into a small smirk. She chuckled to herself, remembering the old name. “I have to admit,” she nodded as she turned to him, “it was nice of you for making an effort. No guy has ever taken me to the bar before and actually paid for me.”

He crinkled his brow, grinning. “I never said I was paying for you.”

She sucked down the rest of her beer, hitting it down on the table. “You are now.”

Notes

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