The city looks cold and bitter veiled in darkness like this. I never realized how unwelcoming and gloomy this neighborhood gets this late at night. Those lifeless buildings of glass and concrete look even emptier than I feel.
Raising the glass, I take another sip of whiskey. It stopped burning my throat two glasses ago, and I’m not sure it’s a good thing. I stare at the amber liquor as I make it twirl. I stole it from Kev’s office, along with the glass. It’s the expensive shit he keeps for celebrations. He’ll give me an earful in the morning for finishing the bottle, but I’m celebrating, am I not?
I did a good thing today. Something selfless that cost me so much more than anyone will ever know. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but it was necessary.
She will hate me for it. She’ll hate me because she doesn’t realize I did it for her. I’ve freed her of the burden of loving someone like me. Someone who can’t make her happy. Not like she deserves.
Somewhere along the way, I fooled myself into thinking I could give her everything. Selfishly, I told myself that I could return every ounce of the happiness she brings me. I convinced myself that maybe I could be the kind of person she needs me to be.
But today reminded me that I can’t. I barely lasted a month before I hurt her.
She asked me to trust her in the past—begged me to, even. And I couldn’t even do that.
In reality, I do trust her. Andrea is too open-hearted and honest for me not to. But I don’t trust myself. I know who I am better than she does, and I know that, with time, I would have made her miserable. I’m not built for what she needs.
That’s why I intended to tell Oliver about us. I can’t compete with him, so I didn’t want him around her any longer. Because I’m a selfish asshole.
I can’t even blame him for pining after her the way he does. Hell, I never expected to fall for someone, but here I am. It isn’t our fault, though. She’s too lovable, clever, talented, funny… And so fucking pretty it hurts. I’m an imbecile for even thinking I might deserve her.
Andrea’s sadness, her teary eyes, are seared into my retinas. I can’t chase the image away, which is what prompted me to go get Kevin’s whiskey. But it’s not working, and I don’t know what else I can do.
I can’t go home. Or rather I don’t wantto. She’s everywhere there, the memory of her lingering in every corner of the rooms she’s been in. I’ll see her when I look at my kitchen counter, the couch, my bedroom… And then I’ll see the tears and the look on her face when she believed I didn’t utterly and hopelessly fall in love with her.
That was the moment I almost broke, almost let her pain convince me that she was better with me than without me. I wanted to shake her for even doubting my love for her. But it’s better if she thinks that. It will be easier for her to move on.
When the pain in my chest returns at the thought, I finish my drink with two gulps and reach for the bottle to pour what’s left in the glass.
Yes, she will move on to someone more deserving than me. Someone who can give her all the things I can’t give her. And I will watch in silent agony as she does.
My secrets and lies forever hidden from her.
To be continued …
