Fifty
By rosaliekempthorne
- 165 reads
He swiped his card without really looking to see if the sensor recorded it, nodded briefly to the bus driver, side-shuffled through the aisle to somewhere near the back, and stowed his bag in the rack up above his head. It still didn’t quite seem real, and even as the distance slid away in the window next to his head, the reality didn’t fully sink in.
He couldn’t help this feeling – and it kept creeping back around on him – was he sure he was doing the right thing?
His phone binged.
He knew it was going to be her.
“You okay, Gus?” was all it said.
Shouldn’t I be asking her that? I’m the one doing the leaving. But then she’d always been thoughtful like that. Was he doing the right thing?
But he texted back, “Yeah, I’m okay, you take care of yourself, yeah?”
#
He sat back and looked out over the city. He had fabulous view from this apartment. He loved this apartment. And he’d thought he loved his job. And her. Tina. He’d been sure he loved her too. Most of all. And yet. Always yet. This niggling doubt that didn’t want to let go of him.
Tina was gorgeous. She was fun, wild, energetic. And he could imagine a life with her easily enough. Maybe too easily. Maybe that was the problem. He’d had a plan. He’d had a life mapped out for the two of them, Tina had been on board, and it’d all been going so swimmingly…
Why then was he so unhappy, so restless all the time with discontent?
Truth was, he didn’t know. He just knew that he had to change his life, he had to take all his old plans and throw them out the window. He had to start again. That was all.
Stan reached hesitantly for his phone.
#
He just had to come out and say it. That was all there was to it. Break-ups were not supposed to be easy, and anyone who told you otherwise had problems. He’d lain awake all night with this running through his head, his brain riddled with guilt and second-guessings, with an ever-present ‘what-if?’
But through all that tossing and turning his resolve had held. When it isn’t working, it isn’t working, and all you’re doing is wasting both of your time if you don’t put an end to things.
But…
You see…
And why did she have to show up at the bar tonight looking so lovely? Her dress was a silky aqua, with shoes and earrings to match. She could have walked right out of some celebrity magazine. And he, Roy, was just a regular sort of a guy, who was out of his league, and if anything should be grateful…
No. That isn’t the point.
“Hi, Nikki,” he found it hard to keep his smile from looking sickly.
“Hey, Roy,” she slid into the booth across from him. “What did you want to meet me here about? It sounded all serious.”
“Oh, well, it’s… that is… um…” He could feel his face reddening, “I know that we’ve been seeing each other… and… I’ve really liked it, and… um, it’s just that…”
“Roy?”
“I just think we need to break up, okay?”
There. Done. He finally let out a full breath.
#
He rang the doorbell.
Waited.
It seemed like he was waiting for ages, like she was making him wait, like this was her last little way of punishing him for being the first to pull away. But he knew this would have ended anyway, if he hadn’t been the one to come out and say it, she would have; or worse, it would have dragged on between them with no enthusiasm from either side, souring and deadening with each passing day.
A clean break, now, was better.
She answered the door in a low-cut red t-shirt.
Trying to turn me on isn’t going to do it. I see what I’m going to be missing, but I knew that when I called it off.
“Lee?” She stood with her hand on her hip.
“Viv.”
“Can I help you with something?” There was some definite acid there. He hated to think what she’d be telling her friend about him over drinks tonight.
He said, “Look, don’t be like that. I just came over here to give you my key back. I won’t be needing it anymore.”
She held her hand out, wordless, vicious; snapping the key up into an impromptu fist as it landed in her palm. She shut the door hard, not quite a slam, but enough to make a point. He was left standing, staring at it.
But then he shoved his hands into his jacket pocket and started walking down the hall. He actually felt lighter. There was a niggling ache gone from the back of his shoulders. He felt like humming or whistling. He took a deep breath – ah, what was that? It tasted like freedom.
Picture credit/discredit: author's own work
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