Page 58 of Still Bruised
“It’s not that I’m uptight. It’s… that I don’t have much experience.”
Cary frowned. “You were married for a decade.”
“And we had infrequentbadsex that happened less often as the years passed,” Foster replied. “I spent more time with my dick in my hand than inside Ashley.”
“What about college?”
Foster chuckled. “There was an almost. Another guy on the practice squad with me. There were a couple of girls, but they were basically Ashley clones.”
“How you didn’t see it before you married her, I’ll never know,” Cary said. “That denial randeep.”
Foster sighed. “Like you said, seeing what happened to Jude probably caused some of that.”
“Wouldn’t surprise me.”
They sat at the bar for another hour or so, nursing another beer through most of it. It was comfortable talking with Cary. Maybebecause he was the only one he could truly be himself with. Whoever the hell that was.
Hopefully, he’d figure it out soon. He was tired of living a lie.
11
The following afternoon, Foster entered Gabriel’s Meats and scanned the interior. The last time he remembered being there was with his dad as a kid, and the place had been smelly and dated back then. No longer. It was a sophisticated joint with a sleek design. Not only did they have an expanded meat display with gorgeous cuts, but another with semi-prepared, ready-to-cook items. They’d also expanded into the next building with a small gourmet deli and cheese shop. A wide entry between made it all one big experience.
A few folks sat at the four small tables inside the deli, eating hoagies, so they apparently served some food, as well. The place was hopping, too. There were multiple long lines with customers waiting to be served and another at the register. Employees hustled behind the counters or took orders, clearly on familiar terms with many of their customers from the conversations happening.
It was a lot to take in. The photos online hadn’t done it justice or prepared him. He pretended to survey the wares while he searched the faces of the folks behind the scenes, looking fora recognizable one. No one stood out. A couple of the men might’ve been Jude, but he couldn’t be sure without a closer look. He’d been there a solid ten and still hadn’t seen who he was looking for, though.
A big guy bounded out of a back door, carrying an overloaded tray of meat. He slid it into one of the display cases before checking the other products inside. He looked a bit like the guy in the picture, but Foster couldn’t be absolutely sure. The right hair color if the facial hair inside the beard net matched what was under the white hairnet.
Foster’s heart started beating harder as he moved closer. His mouth went dry. He rubbed his palms on his thighs as he slowly made his way over.
What the fuck was he going to say?
He’d rehearsed a few things, but they’d all sounded flat.
“Hey, Rita! Make sure you put an extra sausage in Mrs. Giovani’s package on me. I know how much Sal loves them,” the guy behind the counter yelled down the case to one of the employees working the meat case.
“You’re so good to us, Jude,” Mrs. Giovani yelled back, grinning as well as confirming itwasJude. “I’ll have to bring you some of my lasagna the next time I make it.”
“Bring it on,” Jude said, smiling. “I love your lasagna, Mrs. G! Tell Sal he needs to get his ass in gear and fix that mailbox of yours or I’m gonna go and do it myself.”
“You know him. He’ll get to it when he gets to it,” Mrs. Giovani yelled.
Jude chuckled and eyed Foster. He offered a smile and looked back down at the case, but when his gaze instantly whipped back up, the smile was gone.
Those eyes. Even without the heavy eyeliner they were still the same piercing green he still saw in his dreams.
And nightmares.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”Jude asked, eyes narrowing.
Foster’s mind went blank, his stomach turning. He shoved his hands into his pockets, trying to force words out of his mouth.
“I came… to apologize.”
“Apologize?” Jude asked.
“For… what happened. The locker room… everything that came after. I’m so sorry, Jude.”
