Page 56 of Our Final Encore

Even though I’m here to help him, he still shoots me judgmental glares any time I tell him I’m going out to make money by playing music. Despite everything I’ve accomplished, he still thinks it’s not a real job.

Weaving through throngs of tourists, I’m almost to Hondo’s when I spot a head of ashy hair across the cobblestone street. As if on autopilot, my head whips in her direction. She’s sitting on a bench with her back to me, and a guy is sitting beside her. He looks a little bit older, he’s got short brown hair and a full beard, I don’t recognize him. Instantly, I decide I don’t like him when I notice his arm resting on the back of the bench behind her shoulders. I can’t tell if he’s actually touching her, but it’s close enough for me.

Guess that would be the boyfriend she mentioned. I should feel guilty considering what we did, but I don’t. Part of me will always belong to Opal, and I can only hope that she feels the same way somewhere deep down.

After my three second assessment I decide the dude isn’t good enough for her. Then again, he could be Ryan Gosling and I’d probably still feel the same way. No one is good enough for Opal, not even me. Especially not me, actually.

She looks sad, talking to him with a slight frown etched into her features. It’s impossible to make out their conversation from here. I’m tempted to get closer, but I know that would be extremely creepy and invasive. I probably look like a creep already, just standing here staring at them like this.

I can’t see the guy’s expression now, only the back of his head. She leans in and throws her arms around him, and he returns her embrace. In a way it looks more friendly than romantic, but that’s probably just my brain trying to make myself feel better. My stomach churns uneasily and I have to force myself to look away and head inside the building.

She told me what happened was a mistake and it couldn’t happen again. Clearly he’s the reason why; she wants to make things work with him. I let out a long sigh and scrub my hand down my face.

She deserves to be happy, even if that means she’s happy with someone that isn’t me.

THIRTY-SIX

Alex

One month later

After my gig ends, I drive straight home, making a point not to order a drink from the bar afterwards. It’s tempting, so fucking tempting, but I’m trying hard not to start drinking again. After seeing Opal with that guy, I drowned myself in alcohol for the next three days. Barely bothering to leave the house unless it was to buy more beer.

My problem isn’t that I always want to drink, but if something triggers me emotionally it’s the only way I know how to quell those negative feelings. I’d rather drink until I black out than deal with the consequences of my own choices.

“Have you seen Opal again?” My dad is sitting in his chair when I walk inside. He’s nursing a beer and watching the news. No real greeting from him, instead he greets me by interrogating me. Some things never change.

“No,” I say flatly.

“Why not?”

I scrub a hand down my face as I walk through the living room and into the kitchen, not bothering to come up with an answer for that question. It’s time for him to take his meds. Again. If I wasn’t here I know he probably wouldn’t take them.

I shake the pill bottle until the correct number of pills fall into my hand, and then I do the same thing with two more bottles, before grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and handing all of it to him. He grunts as he takes them from me, and I hover over him, making sure he actually swallows them.

It almost feels like I’m the parent now. When Dad told me he was sick he mentioned it off-handedly, like it wasn’t even a big deal, like he could care less. Maybe that’s the truth, but I couldn’t just stand around and let him wither away and die. He and I have never gotten along well, but he’s still my father. He’s the only family I have left.

He swallows the pills and takes a swig of water before slamming the water bottle down on his side table with a little too much force. “You didn’t answer me.”

“Nope.” I start to walk away before he can say anything else.

“You’re gonna fuck everything up again, Alex.”

Story of my life.I’m a fuck up, and he never has any trouble reminding me of it. “I haven’t fucked anything up. We decided to catch up that night because we hadn’t talked in years, what’s wrong with that?”

“Don’t give me that bullshit. She’s still in love with you and you know it.”

A sudden ache spreads through my chest cavity. “No, she isn’t.”

It feels weird to admit the fact out loud to someone. For the last month I’ve been trying to convince myself that I don’t have any feelings left for her. That what happened between us was just sex and nothing more, a half-drunken hookup between two people that used to know each other.

I know that it was so much more than that, but I also know that for her that’s all it can be. She’s with that dude, and no matter how much of a douche he may appear to be, she deserves to be happy with him without me getting in the way.

He sighs and grabs the remote before muting the tv. “Alex, I know for a fact you didn’t wander back here for me. You wanted to see her.”

That isn’t entirely false, but it doesn’t matter. “I am here for you. To take care of you because you refuse to do it yourself.”

He scoffs and shakes his head. “I can take care of myself just fine. I don’t need your ass, what’ve you ever done?”

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