Page 73 of What are the Chances

“I already told you, Mason,” Sam starts. He’s leaning against the table with his arms. Emily seems to have dropped the whole wedding conversation. I feel their pity and don’t want it. Sam sticks out his hand. “You actually have to go inside the bar to talk to her.”

“I did go inside, ya eegit.” I roll my eyes, already annoyed with my brother. “She wasn’t there.”

“Are you sure? I swear she told me she was working all week, including today,” Sam says, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He seems genuinely confused by Charlotte’s absence.

I sit back in my chair, feeling no better than I was the second I stepped out onto the patio, interrupting Emily and Sam’s debate of old Irish superstitions.

“I’m sure.” My heart sinks. I feel absolutely hopeless. I think back to seeing Charlotte’s name show up on my phone screen. I didn’t need her words or anything else from her, I’d already made up my mind to come here. I hadn’t called her back, was hoping this grand gesture would say enough. And now, It’s been a week since I left California and its perfect weather behind. There was something so empty about living in one of the most populated cities in the world.

As the weeks wore on at my mediocre job, only to drive in three hours’ worth of traffic to get home to a completely hollow, empty apartment, I realized more and more how much California was no longer my home. It was as if I was standing in the middle of a crowded room, filled with strangers—no one noticed me, no one cared. Yet at the same time, neither did I. I didn’t care about a single person around me. I held no sentimental attachment to my job. I felt no more grounded to the sands of the beach down the street than I did to the apartment I had been living in for the past several years. Nothing and no one was holding me back. It was then I decided I needed to make a choice, and the choice was easy.

Every person I ever cared about was thousands of miles away, separated by an entire country and ocean. I had never felt more alone than I had in those last moments.

Finally, I’d gathered the strength to face the truth. While I waited out the standard two-week period after resigning from my job, I managed to secure another accounting position at a small firm in Limerick. Even though my new position was thirty minutes away from my parents and Charlotte, I decided to stay in Ennis.

A thirty-minute commute on the quiet highways of Ireland was definitely something I was willing to compromise on for the sake of keeping close to Charlotte. Not to mention, it definitely beat Los Angeles’ rush hour traffic. I had also managed to find a small flat at the edge of town, just what I needed.

Yet even as I found myself back home, my feet planted on the grounds of my childhood home, I still felt a gaping hole in my chest. It was then I knew the reason had to be Charlotte. It didn’t matter where I lived or where I worked. It didn’t matter if I was standing on the beaches lining the Pacific Ocean or the rocky edges of the Cliffs of Moher. Life didn’t mean shit without Charlotte.

After pressing Sam for every detail involving Charlotte’s move to Ireland, he finally told me she had landed a job at the Irish Lily. I ignored the twitch I felt at the back of my mind, disagreeing with Charlotte’s choice to work there. Having experienced it firsthand, I knew it was a place constantly frequented by County Clare’s more unsavory folks. I didn’t doubt Charlotte could handle herself. Maybe it was just I knew she had built this whole new life—without me.

It’s been seven days since I moved back home, and every one of those seven days, I’ve stood outside the Irish Lily, gathering the courage to open the door, hoping to find Charlotte standing behind the bar. But the nerves raging inside me kept me from opening that large wooden door.

I didn’t know what she would say.

Would she even be happy to see me? The ridiculous, irrational part of my brain had even ventured so far as to question if she would even notice me walking in. I imagined her standing behind the bar with her hair twisted endlessly in a braid, lifting her eyes to see a new patron enter and sees it’s me. Then I imagine her face blank, not a hint of recognition flashing across her face as I approached her.

Each day that passed, one where I didn’t open the big wooden door, I slowly felt another piece of myself crumble. What would I even say to Charlotte? I wasn’t sure there were any certain words that could accurately fix or mend what was already broken. Even after Sam’s countless reassurances, I still wasn’t sure.

Then today, as I woke up, listening to the rain rattling against my small bedroom window, I turned on my side, twisting the sheets and blankets with me. The bed was empty, and my stomach dipped when I found my arm wrapped around a fucking pillow. Fucking pillows. That was the second I couldn’t take my own bullshit anymore. The moment I left my small office, I raced to the center of Ennis and marched up to the Irish Lily. I knew I arrived earlier than Charlotte since Sam had told me when her shift started.

I didn’t exactly blend in with the Lily’s usual crowd, dressed in a button-up collared shirt, my tie loose around my neck, but I didn’t care. Ignoring the group of elderly men gathered in the corner, I sat down and ordered myself a pint and waited.

“I’m telling you,” Sam says, bringing me back from my thoughts. He pulls out his phone, his thumb scrolling across his screen. “She told me she was working today. Her text says it right here.”

He holds up his phone, but I don’t bother looking. I know he’s telling me the truth.

“So, what happened?” Emily asks. Her eyes are still sad, but the look of genuine concern is the only thing that makes me want to relive the afternoon.

“Well.” I take a deep breath and run my finger against the grains of the wood top table. “I got there before her shift started, determined to actually speak to her this time. I had it all played out, all memorized, everything I was going to say to her. I kept my eyes on the clock for what felt like forever when I felt someone sit on the seat beside me.” I sigh, feeling the defeat wash over me again. “For a split naive second, I thought it was Charlotte. Instead, it was some blonde woman, a tourist from New York, pretending to ask about the sites to see. I knew she didn’t sit beside me just to get directions and recommendations. We were in a bar. Anyway, I couldn’t get her to stop talking to me. All I wanted to do was turn around and look at the door and wait for Charlotte to appear, but I couldn’t because the woman slid her hand across my arm, essentially blocking my view. Even though she started flirting, I didn’t want to be rude.”

“You’re telling me…” Sam blurts out, “you finally gathered up the courage to speak to Charlotte, and instead, you ended up flirting with some American tourist? Wow,” he scoffs. “You sure are a magnet for those American women, aren’t you?”

“I didn’t flirt back, Sam!” I clench my fist and straighten my back. Sam knows I would never do anything like that to Charlotte. He knows I still love her, so his comment grates on me the wrong way, and I can’t help but feel the anger building inside me.

“I know you didn’t, Mase.” His voice is calm and relaxed. I can tell he senses I’m on the edge of falling apart. Like a pot of boiling water with its lid resting tightly on top when the water starts sputtering out from the sides.

“It was just an observation. I just meant it’s ironic you went there for Charlotte, yet you met another American woman. I mean, what are the odds?”

“You know,” I mutter, rubbing my fingers across my forehead, looking down into my lap before looking back up to Sam. I find myself smiling, but there’s no life behind it, more a smile of disbelief. “I find myself asking that same fucking question more times than I care to.”

Sam’s eyes stare into me, and I can see his love for both me and Charlotte. I’m lucky to have him as my brother even if he can be a dick sometimes.

“I don’t know what to do now,” I say on a sigh.

“What do you mean?” Sam asks. “You’re just giving up? You went in there one time, Mase.”

“Well, I guess the universe is trying to tell me something then because now, it just seems like its conspiring against me.”

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