Page 10 of All In
Silence.
I continue to beat on the door, the force jolting through my body. “MARIA!!” I scream, not caring who can hear me. More pounding. “Maria, please!”
Crickets.
I’m out of breath as I rest my forehead on the door, my hand sprawled on the cool aluminum, unsure of what to do next. Suddenly, I’m shrouded in darkness as the porch light goes off. I take a step back, peering at the door. The click of the lock follows, then the living room goes dark.
Well, there you have it.Message sent and received.
Fifteen minutes ago, I was pacing back and forth in my apartment, trying to calm my nerves at the thought of proposing to this incredible woman.
Now, I’m standing on her porch … and she’s gone. She’s left me in the dark, both literally and figuratively. Just like that.
I look down at the letter, fold it in half, and shove it in my pocket. As I turn to leave, I glance one last time at the house. A house that minutes ago felt like a second home. Now, it will forever be the crime scene that is my life. And all I can think is … she’s behind that closed door with someone new. Someone better.Chad.
With my heart and entire future shattered in one fell swoop, I walk to my car, feeling the weight of rejection in every step. Hanging my head in defeat, I get into the rust bucket. I mean, what else am I supposed to do? If she doesn’t want me, I’ll leave. I’m not about to make a fool out of myself and beg. Even though I feel a pull to do just that … beg. Force her to tell me what is going on. But I won’t.
Honestly, I think I may be in shock. I’m numb.
Once I start the car, Michael Bolton’s voice blares from the cassette player, singing about love. With force, I jab the off button. He’s the last thing I want to hear right now. I reverse out of the driveway and yank the gearshift into drive. As I inch forward, I pull my beat-up Ford Taurus alongside the shiny red Corvette and stop.
Chad’s Vette.
The contrast of the two cars mirrors the two men who own them. Rich and fancy versus poor and regular. As I stare at the car, the reason for her choice becomes obvious.
Maria wants shiny. And I am dull.
Who wouldn’t choose the Corvette?
Maybe I didn’t know her at all. I guess some things I’ll never know.
With that thought, I angrily press my foot to the gas pedal until it hits the floor. The tires screech on the blacktop road, and I race away, wishing my Taurus was the Corvette she wants.
As soon as I step foot intoour—I mean,myapartment—I throw the door shut, causing the walls to shake. Anger is radiating off my body. Kicking my loafers off, I head straight for the fridge, grab a Heineken, and pop off the cap. The cold iciness of the beer coats my throat as the first swig goes down. It does nothing to help the dull ache in my heart. I chug the whole thing practically in one gulp as I pace the floor. Frustrated, I tug at my hair, hoping to find some relief from the intense emotions that are coursing through me. I plop down on the couch, not knowing what to do next. With this nightormy life.
I slam the beer down on the stained, used Formica coffee table, which shakes on impact. I reach into my pocket and pull out the letter to read it again.
Then again.
And again.
One more time.
I can’t take this anymore.
Anger swells in my chest as I ball up the letter and crash it down on the coffee table. The force of my fist causes the legs to give out on the piece of crap. The table breaks and crashes onto the old brown carpet. Along with my beer. I stare and watch as the alcohol pours out, soaking the carpet.
Something about this dumb coffee table breaking sets me off.
With force, I grab the bottle off the floor and throw it at the wall. It shatters, sending shards of glass all over the living room.
I need to release this rage—or heartbreak—that consumes me. I throw my arms and head back and scream. “AAAAHHHHH!” The primal and rage-filled sound that erupts from my throat causes my voice to strain. I fall to my knees, the beer puddle seeping through my pants.
Then I cry.
I cover my face and let it out. I cry like I’m a toddler who just got their favorite stuffed animal thrown away. Because that’s what happened. My favorite person in the universe is gone.
I give myself the time I need to cry this out. Alone. Because now, that’s what I am.
