Page 165 of Sour Notes
“Excuse me, can I ask you something?”
“Yes sir, how I help?” This big, burly Greek man answers in broken English.
I lean forward, showing him the phone screen.
“What do you see here?”
Fucking hell. The dude’s looking at me like I’ve grown two heads. I wish I had. That would be preferable to the devastation I’m drowning in right now.
I thought I’d hit rock bottom, but nope. Officially hitting new lows asking a stranger to comment on my non-existent relationship.
“Is you and your wife, yes?”
He looks at me quizzically, clearly puzzled about where I’m going with this.
No shit, my guy. You and me both.
“She’s not my wife.”
“Ah, your ayabi… your love, yes?”
“Do we look in love?”
I meet his eyes in the mirror and his bushy brows creep up to meet his hairline.
“Of course. I’m old, not blind.” He chuckles to himself, shaking his head.
“I love her.”
“Yes, yes. I see it.”
“She doesn’t love me.”
“What? No! Not possible. This photo is today, yes?” He nods towards my clothes. Smart man.
“Yes, it was taken today.”
“Then is not possible she doesn’t love you. Whatever you did, say sorry. Fix it.” The old guy actually looks invested now.
I was invested too.
But it didn’t do a damn thing.
36
MIA
I’m sorry I’m not strong enough to see this through, Angel. I said I had you and I’ve let you down. Please know I don’t do this lightly. I’m making it okay with your family. I’ll tell them work called me back. Take care. S.
Tears blur my vision as I stare down at Swayze’s Post-it, reading it for the hundredth time so far and I only woke up fifteen minutes ago.
If you can call it waking up after the worst night’s sleep ever.
I’m pretty sure I slept like shit because he wasn’t wrapped around me.
Ha, I might as well get used to never sleeping again then.
When I woke in the middle of the night and didn’t find him next to me, I assumed he’d slept on the sofa, but now I wish I’d checked. But even if I was awake to see him leave, what could I have done? It’s not like I can take back what I said.
