I'm a cunt. I’m a right fucking cunt. She was doing something kind by cleaning the apartment. Dusting for fucks sake. And the minute I saw the jar had been moved it was like my whole world came crashing down again.
That's not her jar, it's mine.
Mine and Lila’s.
The coins inside it are a reminder of what I did to avenge her but Charlie doesn't know that. She doesn't know what they mean to me and I lashed out at her for nothing. My emotions overflowed when I noticed it wasn't in its usual place and I took all of it out on her.
I feel awkward.
I’m in this weird space where I want to tell her everything but I'm also terrified of losing her if I do.
Thankfully the bar is quiet tonight so I don't have any added stress but at the same time, it's leaving me more opportunity to be alone with my thoughts, wiping the same spot over and over until I swear I've rubbed some of the varnish off.
Thestaff onlydoor slowly pushes open and Charlie's head peaks out sheepishly, making me feel even worse about how Itreated her. She's practically swimming in my hoodie, but I'm glad she's not shunned me completely and is wearing it.
“Um, I've been thinking maybe we should have some space ... I'll head back to mine tonight and we can chat tomorrow,” she says, looking directly at me but her eyes have a strained watery quality to them. The confident shell she has up isn’t completely foolproof and I can see I've hurt her.
Fuck.
I’m a cunt.
“No. I meant what I said, we stay together every night. What happened earlier ... there's some stuff ... the jar ... I’m not ready ... I shouldn't have spoken to you like that. I'm sorry, you didn't deserve it.”
Running my hand backwards and forwards over my head, struggling to find the words I need to say and none of them coming easily.
“Have dinner here like usual. Don't ... don't leave me,” I say, whispering the last few words.
She looks up at me with doe eyes and she suddenly seems so small and vulnerable. I know this is her first dive into a relationship and we’re both navigating aspects of our past creeping in, but I'm not going to let this get in the way of what we are together, what we could be. Taking my hand, I tilt her chin up as I step into her, “Don't leave. Stay. Please.” I say one more time. She closes her eyes for a moment and I watch with stilted breath.
Opening them, she looks me over for a moment before taking my hand and kissing the inside of my palm. Pushing it further to cup her face as she nestles into it for a moment. Letting me go, she takes a few steps to her usual bar stool and looks at me with a big, slightly sad smile.
“Just my usual barkeep. Hurry up, I'm not paying you to stand around and stare.”
That's my girl. Gods, let her choose to be with me forever.
“Okay baby, let me put a dinner order in with the kitchen and I'll be back in a moment. I have to go see a man over there real quick and then I'll be back to eat with you,” I say, looking over at Hades standing in the dimly lit corner.
“You're going to see the shadow man?” she breathes, like a thought she didn't mean to vocalise.
“The shadow man?” I question.
“The man who’s always in the shadows. I’ve seen him a few times, he always stays hidden. Who is he? How do you know him? Does he live nearby?” she asks rapidly.
“Woah now, Sherlock, he's a guy I know. We have a couple of hobbies in common is all. I just want to check out how he's doing.”
I try to placate her interest but I can see she still has questions. “One more question then,” I sigh, glancing over to Hades.
“You have a hobby?” Her eyebrow arching in question.
“We both like to huntmoye spaseniye[11].”
Grinning to myself at the little inside joke. I quickly get her usual drink, bourbon and coke, hold the bourbon. Place our dinner order in with the kitchen and head over to Hades. His focus firmly on the three out of towners seated in a booth.
“You caught anything yet?” I ask, walking up to where he's leaning against the wall.
“It's the one in purple. Three women have come forward so far but the police say there’s no evidence to support their claims. It's him though, I can feel it. There’s something off about the three of them but he's in charge.”
His voice is so low I'm barely able to hear him over the slow beat of the music. Looking over my shoulder, I note one of them gets up and heads toward the bathroom, the man in the purple giving a high-five to the remaining man in the booth.