Discovering Truths by B. Benfield (chrysanthemum read aloud .TXT) 📕

bad for you. I wish you didn’t get so caught up in him. I wish none of this would have ever happened. What can I do for you?

Me: I just need you to be there. You’re the only person that knows. I don’t know how I can get through this. I guess I just have to forget about him. I don’t have a choice.

Melinda: You know I’m always here. We need another girl’s night.

Me: I know I said I’m never drinking again, but at this point, I could use a drink…or two.

Melinda: Tomorrow night?

Me: Count me in.

That conversation went better than I expected, but it still didn’t help my somber mood. How do you forget about someone when you’re in love with them? I would have done anything I possibly could have done for Gage. If he told me tomorrow he was getting a divorce, I’d do the same. My feelings were too strong, and not reciprocated. I deserved better than that.

***

Two drinks in and I was feeling good. I promised myself, Melinda, and Marcus that I wasn’t going to get completely wasted like the time before. Marcus probably didn’t care. He was thankful for the free night. He did what he wanted anyway, but with me out, I’m sure his guilt wasn’t as strong. Did he ever feel guilty to begin with?

I was on my fourth mixed drink when bravery struck.

“I’m going to text him,” I said, pulling out my phone.

“Who?” Melinda asked.

“Gage.”

“I thought you blocked him.”

“I did. I’m going to un-block him, and then send him a message telling him how much he sucks.”’

“Ab, don’t do that,” she said, reaching across the table. She grabbed my phone out of my hand before I could realize it. “Just leave him alone.”

“Why should I? He needs to know how much he hurt me,” I said, lowering my voice. I shook my head and looked up toward the ceiling. Don’t cry. He’s not worth it.

“Abby, honey, he probably doesn’t even care.”

She was right. He probably didn’t. And that sucked even more.

Melinda tried to distract me by talking about work, Jon, and anything else she could come up with. Between her babbling and the drinks, I wasn’t exactly sure what was going on anymore.

“I’m going to have to go to the bathroom,” I said, standing.

“Don’t text him.” She warned.

“I can’t. You still have my phone,” I reminded her. I assumed the alcohol was starting to cloud her mind too.

I stood in the long bathroom line, wondering why we always selected popular, crowded bars. If this line didn’t get moving, someone would soon be cleaning up a mess.

Finally, I made it to a stall. As I sat there doing my business, two women having a conversation outside caught my attention.

“When are you getting your car back?”

“I don’t know, but hopefully soon. It’s been in the shop forever.”

“Where’s it at again? Do they even know what the problem is?”

“It’s at that place in Cocoa…the big one. You know…Tommy Atwood’s…his son took it over.”

Atwood? They were talking about Gage’s shop. I flushed the toilet and stepped out quickly to wash my hands.

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but I heard your conversation. The owner’s name is Gage, right?”

“Gage! Yes! That’s it.”

“You need to get your car out of there immediately. He screwed me over bigtime. He’s a huge jerk.”

“Oh my gosh, really?”

“Really. He is horrible to work with. High prices too…”

“Thank you so much for the info. I’ll have to come up with another plan.”

I laughed the whole way back to table. Yeah, that was a bitch move.

***

Melinda and I were done. I wasn’t completely wasted, but the alcohol had done its job. I was feeling pretty good.

“Let me call Jon,” she said, pulling out her phone. She handed me mine and I checked it, but I don’t even know why I bothered. It wasn’t like I was expecting a message from anyone, and my husband wouldn’t bother to check in on me. I shoved it in my purse and rolled my eyes.

“He didn’t answer,” she said. “Weird. Let me text him.”

She texted him, we waited ten minutes, then she called him again. No answer.

“What the heck! I’m starting to get worried.”

“Let’s just get an Uber,” I suggested. “Maybe he’s at home and fell asleep.”

Melinda ordered us a ride with the app on her phone. I could tell she was distraught and ready to get home. Ten minutes later, we were being picked up from the bar. Our driver was a cute, young girl, early twenties I’d guess. She drove a new Toyota Corolla and she greeted us with her bubbly personality once we sat down in the backseat.

“Okay, don’t break any laws, but if you could just get my friend home as quickly as possible please. Then you can drop me off.” I said to the girl.

“Sure thing,” she said.

When we arrived to Melinda’s house twenty minutes later, she had the door opened before the girl came to a complete stop.

“Text me and let me know everything’s okay.” I said.

“Okay. Goodnight.” She said.

“Night.”

I suddenly felt sober. I hoped everything was okay for Melinda.

I chatted with the girl on the ride over to my house. I learned that she was in college for business and I told her some of my story about my degree and new job. I really didn’t like to use Uber because you never knew what kind of whack job you could end up riding with, but we lucked out with her.

It was midnight and Marcus still wasn’t home. Just a typical Friday night in the West household. I wasted no time in putting on my pajamas and crawling into bed. I should have been tired, but I was