Page 49 of The Monster I Loved
“Shh.”
I knew right away, without looking, that it was Mrs. Lin. Some things never changed.
The little craft area was decorated as expected. A cheap, white plastic tablecloth covered the table. Scattered on top of it were orange construction paper pumpkins cut in various sizes. Déjà vu washed over me. I noticed the black paper bats hanging in the corners of the room. When I was younger, these simple decorations always made me smile. My mother often brought me down the hill to the library as a kid. I stepped further into the room and spotted a second table filled with two rows of pumpkins, ready to be carved. Next to each were the tools that we could use to make the jack-o’-lanterns of our spooky dreams.
I removed my jacket, undid my cufflinks, and rolled up my sleeves. I sat on Wylie’s left as Henry took the right side, and we began carving.
In the end, our pumpkin looked nothing like it should, but that’s the best part about Halloween: anything ugly and messed up came across as scary. Wylie was happy, even eager, to put it in front of his grandparents’ house. Henry and I made plans for an adult lunch tomorrow, and I drove away while debating what to do about dinner. In the end, I grabbed some baked ziti from the pizza place on Broadway and afterwards walked to a nearby bar.
Kelly’s bar wasn’t here when I left, but it’d since become one of my favorite places. At home, if I finished a bottle of wine, Aston would always judge me, looking at me in his concerned yet detached way. Here, I could sit in a dark corner, listen to a few songs, and pass the time. I slid into a table and lifted my arm to catch the bartender’s eye. It was only then that I spotted Summer sitting on a stool at the bar. My stomach knotted.
She was smiling and conducting what looked to be a civilized conversation with the people seated around her. So maybe she did still possess the skills to do that.Just not with me.Seconds passed, and Summer’s face lightened as she grinned at hercompanion. I hadn’t seen her like that in years. Relaxed. No veins popped out of her forehead. No profanity hurled from her tightened lips. She seemed to have a glow about her, as if the light in the room was just concentrating on her. I lost track of the surrounding voices and clinking glasses. In that moment, one woman absorbed all the attention in the room. And I’d thought I’d resent her goddamn guts forever.
I ordered a glass of scotch, and the bartender brought it over. I turned my attention back to Summer. Fuck, it wasn’t like she’d done anything special. Just swept her blonde hair over her shoulders, letting it fall down to her waist like waves. She crossed one glossy, bare leg over the other as she dripped with unbothered joy.
God, she was beautiful.
Even in my anger, I couldn’t ignore what the sight of her did to me.She manages to look better every time I see her, I thought as a hardness grew between my legs. I wondered why she was in such a good mood.Did she meet someone?Work couldn’t have been the reason she was sparkling that much. I hid the envy eating at me as I took slow sips from my drink.
There wasn’t any reason this should affect me this way. Yet, I was gripping my glass so hard I could crush it into pieces.
What the hell made her smile like that?I glared in her direction, slicing through the air for any sort of clue.
The bartender had wandered over and joined their conversation. I couldn’t escape the pressure in my chest as I watched Summer’s hand reaching forward to touch the bartender. It wasn’t an intimate touch, but I sat in my corner annoyed, nevertheless.
Then it hit me. My ex might be in a good mood because she believes I’ll drop the charges. Is that why she looked so at peace? Before I could stop myself, I was on my feet and headed to her side.
“Bartender, I’ll take another one.”
At the sound of my voice, Summer froze, released a deep sigh, and turned. For half a second, our eyes met.
Her sourpuss face had returned.
She looked away first.
Typical.
“Damn, can’t I even have one night off? One place where I don’t have to run into a Fitzgerald?”
I hadn’t seen this woman in days. What was she talking about? Oh...Dad.
“Yeah, that little offer my dad gave you won’t ever happen. As you might remember, I hate plea deals. Let every guilty son of a bitch do their time.”
Her nostrils flared. “You took a plea deal.”
No, technically, my father’s overpriced lawyer got the charges lowered. I stood trial and let the jury of my peers decide. Summerknewthis.
“Here’s your drink,” the bartender said, sliding a glass toward me. He flashed me a look, and if I wasn’t mistaken, he wanted me to get lost. Oh, were these two a thing?
I sat on the stool next to Summer.
“Jesus, can you go sit somewhere else?” Summer pressed, then paused. “You got that order of protection against me. Technically, you shouldn’t be here.”
Nice try.
“Everyone in the bar witnessed me enter earlier. The restraining order means you must leave since I was here first.”
The bartender stopped polishing a glass and threw a cloth down on the counter. Then, in what looked to be frustration, he stared at me. “Don’t be a jerk. Haven’t you hurt her enough?”
