Megan

"Ems, finally! I've been waiting for your call. Where are you?"

"Hey, Bobbie. I'm sorry I didn't call you sooner. I needed to get settled first."

"Settled first? Where?"

"It doesn't matter, Bobbie. All that matters is that I'm fine and I am taking some time off after the breakup."

I heard Eden's silent plea in the tone of her voice, so I didn't press the issue. She would tell me when she was ready. I was sure of it.

"So, how long will you be gone for?"

"Uhmm. I don't really know. I talked to the hospital director and told her I needed some time. I will be on leave without pay until I'm ready to come back."

"I see."

"Well, anyways. I gotta go now. I just wanted to tell you that I am fine and I will call you as often as I can, okay?"

"Okay."

"Bye, Bobbie. I love you."

"I love you too. Bye, Ems. Take care."

That was it. The conversation was over within two minutes. I found out nothing, only that she was still alive and is somewhere she won't tell me about. I sighed in disappointment, but I knew it was the right decision not to pressure her into telling me more, as I could sense that she was inches away from a breakdown. Her shaky voice gave much more away than her spoken words ever could. Eden had too much on her plate right now with the breakup and a new chapter in her life, I didn't want to add to it by pressuring her about anything.

I stayed outside the bar for a few moments. The mood was definitely ruined. First, Smith didn't answer my calls, and then the talk with Eden. Some peace and quiet was exactly what I needed then. I re-entered the bar only to grab my bag and say goodbye to my colleagues. I left my car at the office garage and took a cab to get home.

*

The week passed by quickly and there was still no call, a text or a voicemail from Smith. I called him a few times during the week too, but still nothing. Nada, niente, nichts. No letter, no Morse code, no smoke signals. Absolute radio silence. At first I found excuses as to why he still hadn't called.

Maybe he was too busy. Really? Too busy for a one minute phone call to say yes or no to my invitation? Maybe he was out of town? Pff. And that out of town place didn't allow him to make calls? That's impossible, unless he is in the jungle, like the Amazon rain forest or something. Well, maybe he is there? He did say he loves adventures. Yeah, right!Why didn't he mention he was going to be out of town when we talked?

There were many more ideas that popped into my head as to why he hadn't contacted me yet, and every one had gotten more ridiculous than the previous one. Of course, I could have just dropped by his bar since I knew where it was, but it was about the principle that he didn't reply to my calls which was plain and simple, common decency. I hated it. The wait was infuriating.

On Friday night I decided to confront him and tell him what a dîckface he was for not reacting to my calls despite him being persistent about having my number that night after dinner at my parents' house. I will give him a telling-off he won't forget that easily for his lack of decency. Pff. As if it was too much to ask to react to the many phone calls, even a call to tell me to fûck off and to stop bothering him would have been better than all the wait. You just wait, you asshât.

I walked over to his bar and stopped right in front of the entrance. All of my anger had slowly disappeared into thin air the closer I got to the dive bar. Why did I expect anything from him in the first place? I'm an idiot. What were we to each other? No one. He is no one to me, as I was sure, I am to him. Pff. Megan, so much stress over no one. Really? Ugh. Turn around and forget the guy. Your assfâce radar warned you.

My hand that was on the door handle of the bar let go of it after I nodded my head in resolve. Go home or go to another bar and forget the guy ever existed. I did as I had told myself and ran smack into a hard chest. Before I could stumble and fall back on my butt, strong hands held me steady. Surprised I stared at the muscled arms first before moving my eyes towards the owner of those marvelous limbs. Ugh. Smith. Of course.

"Hey you," he grinned at me, "Where are you going? Weren't you just about to get in?"

"I, uhmm, no. I'm gonna go now."

"What? Why?"

"Uhh. Because it was a mistake to go here in the first place."

"And why is that?"

"Because I can't stand your ugly face."

Seriously? I'm an idiot. That's for sure. Ugly? I could have called him many things but not that, as it was obvious to him, me and the whole world that he was far from being one. Because I can't stand your lack of decency to react to a call. That should have been your answer, Megan, you fool.

His eyebrows rose in surprise at my blatant lie of a comment and then his smirk grew even bigger before he chuckled.

"Is that so?" He asked in a challenging way, "So you don't go to bars if the owner of it is ugly?" With just one eyebrow rising and with his forefinger and thumb touching his chin as if in thought he continued, "I didn't peg you for a superficial person who judged others by their looks, to be honest. I am surprised and disappointed, I have to say."

"What? No, of course not. I don't do that. I didn't mean it like that."There was a slight stutter in my voice that I hated, oh so much.

"Then why did you say it?"

"Uhh. Because," I began furiously thinking about what to say.

"How about we talk about it over a drink? Let's go inside, shall we?"

He didn't even wait for my reply and just pulled me inside his bar and led me to an empty table at the back of the place close to the pool table where we played the last time. I wasn't sure what it was about him, but he was charming and a humorous and exciting conversationalist. Staying mad at him was one hell of a difficult thing to do at that point.

He asked me how my week was and I mentioned working closely with my dear colleague, Eve who I mentioned was from Jamaica. That opened up a new topic as he began talking about his adventures in that country. It wasn't that he just talked and talked, but he included me into the conversation by asking questions about my thoughts, feelings, plans et cetera. One topic led to another and all of a sudden it was past midnight and we had several drinks and I was as talkative as a witness on the witness stand.

Lecturing him? Giving him a piece of my mind? Pff. As if. I totally chickened out, and he was simply too nice to deserve it, all of a sudden. Ugh. What a load of crap. He could wrap me around his finger just like that with his charm.

I told him that he needn't have walked me home, but he insisted. So, there we were standing in front of my apartment building once again after an unexpectedly fun night.

"I'm glad you stopped by the bar tonight. Thank you," he said as he leaned in for a kiss on my cheek.

"Uhh. You're welcome."

"I hope to see you again soon."

"Yeah, sure."

Yeah, sure? Yeah, sure? What the fûck, Megan? You still haven't asked him why he didn't call you back. Or what his response is to your invitation to the wedding. Open your mouth and ask him. Now! Before he leaves.

"Bye," he said as he slowly walked backwards away from the entrance.

"Wait," I said panicked, "I actually had a reason why I came by your bar tonight."

"Yeah?" He asked as he moved back closer to me, "Let's hear it then."

"I, uhm, called you but you never answered or replied to my voicemail message."

"Oh, yeah. I'm quite unreliable in that department, I'm afraid. But the answer is yes. I will go to the wedding with you," he said with a grin, "I told you I would do anything you wish for, sweetheart." And with that he winked at me before he turned around and left after waving goodbye.

Sweetheart? Sweetheart? I'm not your sweetheart. Pff. You wish. The guy infuriated me. This hot and cold thingy that was going on with him was pissing me off. I wasn't even sure anymore if it was a good idea to invite him to the wedding.

*

During the week before the wedding he texted me once. "Hey." That was it. Naturally, I replied. But then, nothing. Again there was nothing else from him anymore. Ugh. What was that? Why bother texting that when he wasn't planning on replying?

Two days before the event I called him to remind him about the wedding. But, guess what? Yep. He didn't answer his phone. I left a message telling him where and when, and suggested he come over to my place so we could drive there together. And, once again, nothing. I wasn't even sure he got the message.

My awful mood on the day of the wedding was understandably bad, to my mind that is. I still hadn't heard back from him so I just prepared myself to be alone at the event again. No plus one this time around either. However, I reminded myself that the day wasn't about me or him, but my uncle and his bride, so I shook off my sulky attitude as best as I could and tried to forget about the douche.

The wedding ceremony at a small chapel was lovely. The place was packed to the last seat. My family and I sat together and we decided to go to the venue together too for which I was glad because I was still mad at Smith for not showing up despite promising he would.

My family walked ahead to take their seat at their assigned table while I went to the facilities to freshen up. Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I chastised myself. Stop it Megan. Just stop. Don't let the guy ruin your mood like that, not just him, but any guy for that matter. Enjoy the celebration. Have fun. You don't need anyone to have fun. You never have.

With a nod in agreement to my own thoughts, I plastered a smile on my face and prepared myself for the crowd that was awaiting me in the dining area. I will enjoy myself so much and will not waste a single second, or a single thought of him.

At the entrance, there were ushers that led guests to their seats which would have been chaotic otherwise in the huge venue. I was just telling them my name and saying that I was by myself, when I heard a voice behind me, "Smith Wilder. Her plus one."

***

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