Page 38 of Chasing Blue
“Man, how stupid are you? You do not take a woman out to dinner before ending things, and you definitely don’t do it at the dinner table. You do that shit in private. How can you reach your age and not know this?”
“Fuck,” had been my only response.
“Call her up and cancel. Tell her you’re coming over, but that you need to cancel dinner.”
“I can’t, I’m on my way to pick her up right now. I’m already late, so she’ll be all ready to go.”
“Wait. You’re picking her up? So, you were gonna end things and still take her home after? Are you some kind of fucking idiot? Have you never ended a relationship before?”
I actually hadn’t.
“Okay, I fucked up, I get it. How do I fix this?”
He’s silent for a long moment before saying quietly, “Don’t do it in the restaurant. Let her enjoy her food, then wait till you take her home before saying anything. Again, I’m questioning how you do not know this shit? You’re thirty-nine years old, dude.”
This is the second time today I’ve been reamed a new arsehole by one of my siblings, reminding me that I’m seriously failing at life.
“It’s . . . I’ve never got in deep enough things needed to be declared over. I only do casual. If we didn’t keep in touch, it meant we were done, I’ve never had to declare that shit, and I’ve been good with that.”
“So, what’s happened this time?”
“I’ve been good with casual, but Jules . . . I don’t know, she’s started making plans and complicating things.”
“And you don’t want that?”
“It’s not that I . . .” I trailed off as I turned onto the development Jules lives in.
“You don’t want it with her?”
Thiswas the truth. I’d been looking for a way out for the past few weeks, and my reaction to Scarlett reappearing in my life just confirmed it was time to end things with Jules. I’d never settled down after Eden, but I wasn’t a player. I didn’t have time for that shit for a start, but it’s just not who I am. My parents had been happily married until we lost Mum to cancer when I was only fifteen, and I’d always hoped to one day find what they had.
“D’you remember Scarlett O’Brien, Shann?”
“There’s someone else,” Shannon states. It’s not a question, but I confirm his assumption with my nonresponse.
“And no, I don’t remember Scarlett O’Brien. Is she the someone else?”
Is she? I can’t get her out of my head. Images of her and our conversations are on a constant loop, all day, most of the night, and especially when I’m in the shower. It’s not something I’ll be sharing with my brother though.
We’re quiet for a few seconds as I consider all of this. Then using a tone I use myself when giving Finn advice, Shannon says, “Just don’t be a dick about it. She’s expecting dinner and a fuck, not to get dumped.”
“I seriously fucked this up, didn’t I?”
“Not your finest moment, brother. Maybe call me before you end things next time.”
“Yeah, maybe I will.”
“Like I said, go easy on her. She’s not gonna be expecting her night to take the turn you’re planning on taking it.”
I pulled up onto the drive, responding on a sigh with, “I’ll do my best. Thanks, man. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“You do that.”
“So,you gonna talk to me, or am I walking my arse out of here?” Julia asks while tapping her nails on the timber tabletop.
I remain silent as my eyes trail the waiter weaving his way to our table with our drinks. Apparently, I’d ordered a vodka, lime and soda, proving how badly seeing Scarlett tonight has my head all over the place. I’m driving, I have a one beer policy if I’m getting behind the wheel. I have a newly qualified driver at home. I need to set a responsible example to him when it comes to alcohol and driving.
My thought process is bouncing around my head as hard and fast as my knee is under the table we’re sitting at. I accept my drink with a thank you and consider how to handle the mess I’ve fucking created.
