Hello friends! I know I've been gone so long and some of you have been looking for the next chapter. I decided I needed to just put this out to give you some relief! This chapter is just a filler to give some leeway between the big chapters I have coming up next week. It's all focused on Nick and there really isn't much action, but hey, I tried! (P.S. My writing has been deteriorating due to school being really melancholic and oppressing and my creativity juice has been spiked with the poison of dogmatic and cynical teachers) Apologies for the delay, I've been so busy with school, but I'm on break in a few days so I shall hopefully be back to finish up this story. This chapter might seem a bit vague, but I promise I will compensate in the next one.
"Screw whoever said alcohol isn't a good way of dealing with your problems," He half-shouts, tipping the last few droplets of whiskey into his mouth. The burn in the back of his throat is hardly felt by how numb he feels elsewhere. "I'd like to meet the guy who tossed that baloney into society."
With gentle but determined force, he sets the glass down on the darkened oak bar. The bartender doesn't hide his lack of interest in Nick's woes as he rambles on. Instead, he proceeds to wipe up the alcoholic residue his emotional customer leaves splattered on the bar without really giving it much thought.
Nick can relate. Years of experience and him too being the subject of some drunken oaf's heartbroken soliloquys have helped him to grow a thick skin when faced with the apathy of others.
He takes a moment to observe the seemingly exhausted and imprudent young man. He studies through squinted eyes, taking into the account his five o'clock shadow and how his jaw slightly juts out as he cleans each individual tumbler. His burgundy button-down doesn't do much to cover up his imperceptibly protruding beer belly of which he is assumingly in the early stages of devising. It sort of makes Nick feel slightly better about his 'cookie pooch.' Not that he ever really felt ashamed of it. Jess had most certainly put that insecurity to bed whenever she'd present a speech to him about how she'd rather have a giant teddy bear to cuddle rather than a rock with skin. And then she'd quickly correct herself of any prejudices she may have made in saying that, and Nick would have to calm her down and then they'd laugh and everything would be happy and… God dammit.
"Pour me something strong enough to make my insides bleed, Geoff."
"The name's Kevin." He responds, deadpan. "Probably the least of your worries though"
The drink is set in front of him, the darkish gold liquid sloshing around as it hits the wooden surface.
"Cheers my man."
He raises his glass and tips it slightly to the side before taking a generous sip and wincing almost immediately after.
The strength of the liquor was undeniable. It should have been enough to wipe a good six months' worth of memories from his thoughts, but the attempts and burning in his trachea are futile in relation to ever forgetting those two words. The two words that could possibly stay with him 'til his dying day.
"I'm married."
And by God they are not the sort of words he will ever soften up to.
Already, he pictures her. The face he once cradled with his thumb and forefinger and brought his lips down to plant tender, yet meaningful kisses on hers. The chocolate curls that once cascaded and tumbled down over her shoulders when she sat up in bed after having her arms wrapped securely around him, her face buried in the crook of his neck as they slept in 'til all hours. Her mesmerising bright blue eyes that shone like two sapphires and lit up whenever they were together. He hears the faint echo of her husky laugh that she could never seem to stop once she got going. Her signature dress pieces, her flats, her bows, her glasses. Both pairs. All of the things he once got the privilege of experiencing that made up the woman he loved to no end and could never talk his eyes off. All those things now belong to some other guy. Probably a hell of a lot more sophisticated and put together than Nick could ever say for himself.
For some peculiar reason, Nick has a small urge to meet this guy. Not to give him a piece of his mind or to accuse him of 'stealing his girl' as some people would. All of that would be pretty redundant given the circumstances, and it probably wouldn't fare well with Jess either.
No, all he wants to do is warn him. Warn him that he has got possibly the most astoundingly beautiful, intelligent woman he has ever laid eyes on and he has seized the opportunity to be with her for the rest of his time. He wants to let him know that taking his marriage to her for granted will be the biggest mistake he will make, ever, in his lifetime.
Jessica Day is not one that comes around often. As rare as a solar eclipse, she will take every ounce of happiness that exists in your being if you lose her. She might not mean to, and she certainly won't set out to, but she has some sort of ethereal power within her that can strip one of all their happy experiences and replace them with desolate memories that seem to play on a loop constantly in your mind, offering you no relief whatsoever. Every time you gaze into those blue eyes, remember that you will seldom find the same enthusiasm and trust in any other. Cherish every moment you have with her. For God's sake, cherish her. You don't want to be some loser spending every waking moment seeing her face in the bottom of your whiskey glass. You don't want to end up like me.