Page 1 of Blindly Yours

ONE

Rose

Idon’t want to be here.

I should be at home wrapped in a blanket with a mocha latte in my hands. But I’m stuck at a grimy bar that has somehow managed to thrive right in the heart of downtown Minneapolis.

The place smells like cheap tequila and abandoned responsibilities. I’m surrounded by tired-looking businessmen with their ties hanging loosely from their necks and half a dozen empty beer glasses arranged haphazardly in front of them.

I’ve lived here in the city all my life and decided it was time to diverge from my worn-out weekend circuit, but this was a mistake. The reviews for this bar were wildly overstated. It was supposed to be a “hidden gem,” but there is absolutely nothing gem-like about this place. There’s badly done Sharpie graffiti on the wall next to me and an unsettling layer of film on the bar top. Oh, and I think I stepped in something gooey coming back from the bathroom.

I peer down at the heels of my Louboutins and grimace. These are Nappa leather. What a waste.

When I eye the patrons around me again, they all look like they either lost their jobs or the love of their lives.

All except one.

He’s using his misery as a bargaining tool right now.

“I’m a changed man,” he says, scooting his bar stool closer to me.

“Malcolm, please don’t…” I slowly circle my straw around the inside of my glass, disrupting mint leaves that float among the ice cubes. They’re dodging and sliding through the current I’m pulling through the vodka.

“Rose, just give me another chance.”

I suck in stale bar air and squint toward the restroom door on the far side of the establishment. Junie has been gone for maybe three minutes, but she’s failing to fulfill her best friend duties. I need my out.

This is the last place I expected to see him. When we were together, we only dined at five-star bistros and riverside cafes. If he's stooped this low, maybe he really is that miserable.

“I’ll take you on that trip to Cabo,” Malcolm continues to insist beside me, sliding his hand toward mine. “Remember? You said you were dying to go. We’ll spend a few days on a catamaran. We’ll rent a villa. We can do it all. Whatever makes you happy.”

I pull my hands to my lap and let my eyes finally drift up to his. They’re some of the bluest I’ve seen, and they struck me so intensely the first time I met him. In the sunlight, they sparkle like the water reflecting a clear sky on a summer day. But tonight, they’re more like ice, dulled by the dim lighting in this dated bar.

“I don’t want to go to Cabo,” I shake my head.

“Ok, that’s fine. Then tell me where you want to go. We can go anywhere.” He sits forward on his stool, speaking louder over the music and leaning closer to me. “Or we can stay right here in Minneapolis. That’s fine too. They’re opening that new Cartier on Seventh soon. Let me get you that bracelet I promised.”

“I don’t want the bracelet. I don’t want a trip.” I run my fingers through my hair. I spent so much time on it earlier, but now I just want to pull it up and away from my face and run home as fast as I can. I raise a brow at him. “Maybe stop trying to win me back with gifts. It’s not a good look.”

He scoots even closer. “Then, what? What can I do?”

“It’s over, Malcolm.” I eye the perfect ringlet of auburn hanging across his forehead. He always styled it purposely that way, ever since I told him how much I liked it. But that was months ago, before I finally summoned the courage to walk away.

He inches his arm toward me again. His pressed white dress shirt is rolled and cuffed around his fair-haired forearm, and his silver Rolex catches the glimmer of the colorful lights hanging from the ceiling. He slides his fingers closer until they just touch mine.

I ignore the urge to slap him away and politely pull back.

“Oh, come on, Rose,” he sighs, returning his hand to his lap. “I’ve apologized again and again. Forallof it. Let’s start over.”

I shake my head as I resume stirring my drink. “No. I’ve moved on, and you should really do the same.”

It isn’t a lie. I’ve spent the last four months avoiding Malcolm at all costs, trying to wipe those sky-blue eyes from my memory. I prefer to make it look like it's been easy, but it hasn’t. Even though I was the one to end the relationship, loneliness caught me in its sticky depths quickly.

He presses his hands together between his knees and leans forward again, trying to find my eyes. “I still love you.”

At the same time, Junie appears behind him, finally back from the bathroom. I shoot her a look of distress.

As soon as she sees him, she pulls her phone from her purse and clears her throat quickly. “I forgot, I need to feed Cooper. Can we head out, Rose?”

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