Page 7 of Chucky’s Pride

Chucky

I’m sitting at the bar in the clubhouse thinking about the last conversation I had with Maria a few hours earlier when my Prez, Axe, sits down on the stool next to me.

“You look as if someone shot your dog. Why are you sitting here so early in the day trying to drink all the whiskey?” Axe asks.

Axe is one of the greatest men I have ever known. He’s a true friend that is more like a father to all of us who are still under thirty. He will listen to your problems, tell you how you are acting like a big fucking idiot and then listen to some more, all while keeping a smile on his face. He was exactly how my own father would act.

“Maria left.” Is all I can choke out before downing the shot in front of me. I tap the shot glass in front of me indicating that I want another.

“What do you mean by left? You have to give me more information than that.” Axe watches the prospect refill my shot. I down it just as quickly before I respond to his again.

“Left… as in she moved back down south so she could go to college.”

“You could still see each other, couldn’t you? It’s not that long of a drive down. Sure, it will be hard to do something long distance. But I doubt it would be for forever.” Axe opens a beer and takes a sip.

“Even if I thought we could work it out, I don’t think she really cared one way or the other. She never once mentioned anything about us having a future together. Plus, she packed up and left, only thinking to give me a call on her way out of town.” My words are harsh; I don’t care.

“Ah, so that is really the issue here. You are uncertain of her feelings for you. So instead of telling her your feelings for her, you just kept your mouth shut.” He shakes his head at me. “You need to track her down and work this shit out. Trust me; you’ll regret it one day if you don’t”

“Fuck that. If she cared about me at all she wouldn’t have left like she did.”

Axe just shakes his head at me and walks away with his beer.

Maybe I can drink enough to forget about how her body fit next to mine as if it were made especially for me. Or maybe it’ll make the memories of her that much worse. Either way, drinking my sorrow is exactly what I plan to do.

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