decided to seize my chance.
"Can I speak to you outside?"
Barron glanced at his mom and nodded. "Yeah, man. I have something to ask you."
I raised my eyebrows in surprise. "Oh. Okay, yeah. Let's go."
Barron followed me out to the patio into the cool air. The weather was warming up slightly, but a distinct chill still lingered.
"I want to apologize properly for the way I spoke to you the last time we saw each other."
I held my hands up, stopping Barron from continuing. Jesus, the last thing I deserved was an apology. Everything that transpired that weekend - Barron and Sofia hitting me with some hard truths, Maria finding out about me sleeping with Lissa and kicking me out of her apartment - all of that was down to my behavior and lack of awareness of anyone else's feelings but my own.
"No, Barr. That's what I wanted to talk to you about. I'm the one who's sorry. You're right; I should've never brought Maria to your engagement party. I should have never come into your home and mentioned Lissa."
I shook my head. "I-I haven't been a very good cousin."
Barron remained silent as he eyed me with a look I couldn't quite discern. "I didn't expect that," he remarked after a short pause.
"What? An apology?"
He shook his head. "No, you already apologized over text. To be honest, I thought that would be the end of it. That almost sounded like a sincere apology." His mouth lifted in a smirk, letting me know that his latter comment was a joke.
I relaxed as I returned his expression. I knew I still had a long way to go before Barron could feel like my apology was made in earnest and wasn't just lip service. But the simple fact that we could share a small moment of amusement gave me hope that I could repair the gap that had widened between us since our youths.
"I fully admit I can be an asshole sometimes. In fact, you weren't the only one who pointed it out to me that weekend."
"Oh yeah?" Barron stuck his hands in his pocket and rocked back on his heels. "Maria give you hell?"
The other woman had barely crossed my mind since we ended our tryst. Well, since she smashed my phone and kicked me out practically naked. She hadn't reached out to me, and neither had I. As much as I regretted how things ultimately ended, a part of me - the asshole part - was also relieved that I didn't have to go through the whole "let's end this now. It's not you, it's me" spiel.
That was always the worst part. And I had to do it more times than I cared to. This two-month reprieve had been good for me to get some perspective on my relationship with women and how I treated them.
"Uh, no. Not Maria. Sofia."
Barron's eyes widened in surprise before he pulled his lips together in a blatant attempt to hold in a chuckle.
"She didn't tell you?"
"She told us about you being kicked out half naked from Maria's and then finding you drunk at Malley's and offering you her couch for the night."
"That's it?" I sighed as embarrassment clouded my face at the reminder of my comedy of errors that weekend. "She basically called me rude, arrogant, and, I think, entitled. Then she kicked me out of her car and made me walk half a block to your house."
Barron's eyes widened with each tidbit I fed him until he burst out a choked laugh when I got to the end of the story.
"It's not funny! My feet were half frozen by the time I got to yours." But I was also fighting off my own laughter. The truth was, as stunned as I was at the time that she was actually for real kicking me out of her car, a big part of me was grateful that she called me out on my shit. When I reflected on her words and my own behavior that warranted her outburst, I would've kicked my own ass if the roles were reversed.
Instead of Barron sympathizing with me, my comment set him off more. He couldn't hold his laughter and bent over, chortling heartily before wiping the tears from his eyes.
I chuckled along with him. I conceded that the visual of being kicked out by a five-foot-nothing female and walking barefooted to beg for shoes after being kicked out of another female's apartment half-naked made for a slapstick story.
"Wow," Barron shook his head, still softly cackling under his breath. "Sofia does not fuck around."
I rubbed the spot over my heart as I thought of the spitfire beauty. Only Sofia knew how to frustrate me physically, mentally, and sexually. She brought out the most extreme version of myself just by being in the same vicinity as her. My flirt game became more outrageous, my need to rile her up; to see if she felt a slice of the raw jealousy I felt in knowing I couldn't have her.
My thoughts turned to that Walmart-wearing pretty boy, Brian. God, even his name was tedious. Did I feel a sliver of guilt for ruining her date with him? No.
I was a priggish asshole the following day when I woke up - feeling like hell turned over - and realizing that Sofia was pissed at me for ruining her..."sex night."
