Life In Reverse(71)

“Eh, your father’s a softie.”

“Speaking of which,” he turns fully on the stool to face me, “have you thought any more about c-calling your dad? You have to forgive him sooner or later.”

Both my mood and my grin slip at the mention of my father. I stare down at my hand, now curled into a hard fist. “No, I f*cking don’t.” I release a heavy breath. “He f*cked everything up.”

“No.” Chris waits until I look at him. “You d-did that all by yourself.”

“Thanks, dude.” I grip his shoulder with a smirk. “I can always count on you for a reality check.”

He flashes me his white teeth. “You’re welcome.”

The huge dose of reality he served causes me to suck into myself. I drop my head in my hands and we sit in silence as I stare blankly at my beer. The creaking sound of Chris’s stool drags my gaze up.

“What are you staring at?”

“I know that g-girl. I just can’t place where I know her from.” I spin in my seat to check it out but there are too many heads blocking my view.

“So go talk to her,” I urge, shifting back around. “Stop being shy for once in your life. Maybe you’ll even get a date out of it.”

His brown eyes narrow and he scowls. “I know how to get a date if I want one. I’m just n-not interested.”

“Okay.” I hold my hands up. “If you say so.” I dig my fingers in the peanut bowl and shove a handful into my mouth.

“Look who’s t-talking.” He drags the bowl away from me. “Maybe you’re the one who should get out there. You’ve had a bit of a dry spell, don’t you think?”

“There were a few girls. But they meant nothing and I didn’t mislead anyone.”

“Yeah, b-but that was like, a while ago,” he adds, pushing the issue. One I’m in no mood to discuss.

“Did I tell you your mom called me yesterday about your birthday shindig? I was confused because your birthday is three months away.”

He smirks. “Nice d-diversionary tactic. And you know how my mom is. She’s a planner—” He snaps his fingers in front of his face. “Now I know where I’ve seen that girl. She was at your mother’s funeral.”

“What?” It takes me a second before I stand up off the stool, scanning the crowd. “Who? Show me which one.”

He pushes off his seat, surveying the faces of people huddled together near the stage and over by the makeshift dance floor. His gaze moves toward the entrance to the bar and he points a finger. “Th-that one.”

Given that Chris has a two inch height advantage, I still can’t see shit. I walk a few paces, pushing my way past the horde of inebriation. And then my eyes land on a face—her sweet, sweet face—and my heart begins to beat like a freaking drum inside my chest. Up until now, I didn’t realize it was still there.

Ember.

Her name clings to my lips and my body stills, save for the erratic thumping of my heart and the slight tremble in my hands. After all this time, there she is. And here I am, unable to move or f*cking breathe. All I can do is stare.

Her shoulder length hair is now mid-way down her back, her curves more pronounced. A dress cut above the knees accentuates her long, toned legs. Dresses never used to be her thing. It makes me wonder what else has changed, and how much I’ve missed.

Chris appears beside me. “Yeah, that’s her.”

I look over at him. “She was at the funeral?”

“Yeah. And the only reason I even remember her is because I actually b-bumped into her on my way out. She was upset and I gave her a tissue. I asked how she knew your mom but she was vague.” His eyes travel my face. “You all right? Your skin is pale.”

My glance returns to Ember. “That’s her.”

“Who?”

Of course he wouldn’t recognize her. I never had a picture and she doesn’t have a Facebook profile for f*ck’s sake. I would know, because I spent countless hours trying to locate one. Then again, I could have easily found her if guilt and anger hadn’t stood in the way.

I choke down a swell of emotion to utter her name. “Ember.”

“Holy crap. Well, what are you waiting f-for?” He gives my arm a shove. “Go talk to her.”

My feet are frozen, regret keeping them rooted to the sticky floor. “I can’t.” I swallow hard and watch as a big hand comes around to engulf her shoulder, bringing her in close.

And I see just how much has changed.

She looks… happy and my stomach pinches tight. I can’t lie. I wish he wasn’t the one making her smile like that. But she deserves to be with someone who can make her happy. “She’s not mine anymore.” My gaze jumps to Chris’s face and he frowns, the pain scrawled on my skin obvious only to him. “Let’s get out of here.”

The ride back to our apartment in the East Village is quiet, but my brain is filled with static. Seeing Ember again solidified how real my feelings were, and unfortunately for me, still are. But she’s clearly moved on and I only have myself to blame. I didn’t give her a choice. I’m the one who left. I’m the one who threw us away.

Chris’s voice cuts into my thoughts. “I always wondered when we were deciding between New York and California, why you always p-pushed so hard for New York. It was because of her, wasn’t it? Maybe you were hoping she’d be here, too?”