Page 104 of I Stop Somewhere Waiting For You

So now here we sit, well past seven o’clock, with me polishing off the last bit of my bottle of wine, and the boys—a quarter of the way through their second bottle of Jameson. I hop up off Mav, placing my glass down so I can start clearing the table.

“Baby, stop.” Mav tries to pull me back down, but I wave him off.

“Stop it. I got it.” Turning my attention across the table, I address the guys. “Car service or crashing here. Pick one because you’re not driving.”

“I got this,” T asserts with confidence. Removing his phone from his pocket, he fumbles it as it drops to the floor. He snickers as he bends over to scoop it, his fingers texting out a message once it’s back in his grasp. “There!” he proudly exclaims just as his phone starts ringing. Offering up an exaggerated groan, accompanied by a dramatic eye roll, T swipes up and hits speakerphone. “What?!” he calls out.

“What the fuck you just text me?” an unknown voice expels from the phone.

Finn leans over, swiping at T’s screen for a moment before his face twists into a look of pure confusion. “Nothing recognizable. At least not by any English language standards.”

“Shut the fuck up!” A clearly inebriated Tristan waves Finn off as he leans over his phone. “Come get us, bitch. We’re at Mav’s.”

“Alright. Alright. I’m coming.” The line cuts out.

“Lenny’s coming.” T gestures toward the phone before placing his head face down on the table.

“Lenny?” I ask.

“Just one of the crew. He’s good people,” Mav assures me. “He’ll make sure these degenerates get back to Hydetown.”

“You sure you guys don’t want to just crash here?” I offer once more. “We’ve got the space.”

“Thanks, Jones. Seriously.” Finn smiles at me. “But we’re good. You guys enjoy the alone time. You’ve earned it. I will, however, happily accept some assistance with getting that fucker downstairs.” Finn gestures to T, whose faint snores now emit from where he lay.

“Hold on.” I chuckle as I head toward the door. “Lemme get my shoes on.”

“J, stay here,” Mav interjects. “I got ‘em.”

“Baby, you are out of your mind if you think you are any more sober than them. Rest easy, you’re still gonna help carry him. I’m strictly supervising.”

Mav side steps the couch and loses his footing, though catches himself before he falls. “Probably for the best.”

I snort, shaking my head as I scan the floor for my shoes but come up empty. “Hey, have you seen my sneakers?”

He nods. “I put ‘em in the bedroom with your duffle bag.”

Turning to exit the living room, I make my way down the hallway that leads to our master. Upon reaching the door, I push it open to be met with an unexpected surprise.

A large arrangement of dark burgundy peonies overtakes the dresser, triggering a barrage of emotions within me. I step toward them, my fingers grazing across the petals once I’m within reach. Taking note of a small white envelope, I withdraw it from the bouquet, slipping the card out from within.

“I look at you

and I would rather look at you

than all the portraits in the world.”

“I should have answered the phone.” Mav’s voice carries from the doorway. “The times you called the first year… after the deliveries... I should have picked up. I’m sorry.”

“I started to think I was crazy,” I respond without turning to face him, a faint laugh escaping my throat. “That maybe you weren’t the one sending them.”

“It was me. Every year, like clockwork.” Mav approaches from behind, his arms encircling me just as I lean back into him.

“Valentine’s and my birthday,” my voice comes out a whisper. “Every year. No card. No call. But they’d always come.” My eyes slip closed as my memories overtake me. “It felt like a form of torture.”

“I’m so sorry, baby.” He spins me to face him. “I just couldn’t stop. Because the day I didn’t send them, the day I’d let one of those dates pass without acknowledging, it would mean we really were done. To me, it was my last tie to you, and I just couldn’t bring myself to cut it. I know how selfish that makes me.”

I look up at him, momentarily studying his features as I allow my hands to trace light circles on his biceps. “It does make you selfish. Wanna know what makes me selfish? That I didn’t tell you about the baby.”

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