Chapter 4
Waverly had woken up resolved, determined. But what had seemed clear cut and easy in the dark of night was uncertain and daunting in the light of day. She found herself once again sitting on her bed, phone in hand, stymied by a familiar string of numbers. She had dialed this number dozens of times over the years, barely even having to look at the screen any more, her fingers moving across the keys by muscle memory. But today she couldn't seem to make her fingers work. She wasn't sure if her hesitation was uncertainty, over her decision, or simple reluctance to have what would undoubtedly be an unpleasant conversation.
Was she being hasty, ending a solid, long term relationship because someone new and exiting had come along? Would she find herself in this same position six months or a year from now, once the novelty wore off? Or was she making excuses to stick with the status quo just so she wouldn't have to break a good man's heart? And, despite their occasional incompatibility, Champ was a good man.
He just wasn't the man for her. As hard as she had tried to pretend otherwise, as much as she tried to gloss over the small faults in their relationship, deep down, she had always known.
Taking a deep breath, Waverly slid her thumb across the phone screen, clicking on Champ's contact and crafting a quick text. Lunch? We need to talk and hitting send before she could lose her nerve. Maybe it was just delaying the inevitable, but after so many years, he deserved a face to face conversation.
Her phone chimed with the tone of a returned text and Waverly's heart started to pound in her chest as she swiped it. Hands shaking she tapped the threat open to read Champ's response. Let out a stuttering breath at the thumbs up, feeling a little guilty that he had no idea what was coming. The thumbs up was quickly followed by another string of emojis, including a winking face, kissy lips, an eggplant, a peach, a hand and a clock.
She huffed a laugh, of course he would see "we need to talk" and think that she was inviting him up for a quickie. She sent him back another text Shorty's. 1. And a string of food and drink emojis, hopefully getting the point across.
The guilt still remained, but her resolve was set. His one track mind was just one of their incompatibilities. Not that she was opposed to sex, she had definitely enjoyed the physical aspect of their relationship, but sometimes she wanted her brain to be as stimulated as her libido.
She had a feeling that Nicole wouldn't have the same problem, keeping her mind engaged. Waverly shook her head at the errant thought, this wasn't about Nicole, and she really needed to stop comparing the two.
While the arrival of the other woman in town might have been the catalyst for her decision, the issues were firmly between Champ and herself. As much as she wanted to be able to explore what was developing between herself and Nicole, she wasn't breaking up with Champ for Nicole.
Tossing her phone aside, Waverly slid out of bed and headed towards her closet to get ready. What did one wear to break up with their boyfriend, she mused, surveying the offerings of her wardrobe, then shook her head at her ridiculousness.
Waverly fidgeted in place in her booth, sliding her pint glass back and forth across the table as she eyed the door every time it opened. Letting out a little sigh of frustration every time did, and someone other than Champ strode through. She glanced at her watch, then rolled her eyes at herself when it revealed that it was still ten minutes until their agreed upon time. She was just antsy. The beer she'd ordered having done little to calm her nerves. The second wasn't making much of a dent either. As indecisive as she had been this morning, now she was just eager to get this over with. She hated waiting. Having a plan but not being able to follow through.
She went back to fidgeting with her glass, swirling the liquid around the bottom, sliding it through the beads of condensation on the table. So caught up in distracting herself until Champ's arrival that she didn't notice him enter, and jumped, startled, when he slid into the booth across from her.
"Hey, babe," he greeted her with that wide, dopey grin of his. The one that used to make her heart flutter and her knees go weak. He reached for her beer, his large hand dwarfing hers as he slipped it from her hand and brought it to his lips, throat working as he took a long swallow from it. When he set it back on the table in front of her, it was nearly empty. She rolled her eyes, but couldn't bring herself to be truly annoyed.
"God, I'm starved," he said, reaching for the menu in front of him. Not that he needed it. He had grown up in this bar, just as Waverly had, he probably knew the menu just as well as she did.
"Champ, we need to talk." Waverly decided to skip the formalities and jump right in. Preferably before Rosita came by to get Champ's order. She had invited him to lunch, but she didn't really want to be stuck through an entire meal.
"Hmmm?" he glanced up from the menu, but it was clear that she didn't have his full attention.
Waverly brought the beer glass up to her lips, draining the remainder in a quick shot of liquid courage. Wrapped her shaking hands around it's base once she had set it back on the table. "Champ, we need to break up," she blurted, wincing at the bluntness of the words, but unable to couch them in softer language.
She didn't want there to be any mistake about them trying to work on things, with an opening like "this isn't working for me" or "things haven't been great between us lately." She had tried those conversations many times before, and sure, things might improve for a few weeks, Champ being attentive and devoted for awhile before things slowly slipped back to the way they'd been before. She was over the cycle. She was ready to stop compromising her wants and needs and move on.
"Huh?" Champ looked up from the menu, eyes going wide, mouth dropping open in surprise. He shook his head, as if maybe had misheard. "Babe? What?"
"I'm sorry, I don't mean to be so blunt I just...I want to break up. I don't..." she trailed off. There was no good way to end that sentence I don't love you anymore? I don't want to be with you? She wasn't deliberately trying to hurt him. Not any more than this situation would hurt, anyway. She might not love him, but that didn't mean she wanted to be cruel.
"Babe, what are you talking about? Where is this coming from?" Champ put the menu down, reaching out and gently prying Waverly's hands off the beer glass, giving them a little squeeze. "Is this about last night? Look, I'm sorry, I just thought...y'know it's been awhile and I...I'm sorry, I'll put in a little more effort next time. Bring you some flowers or chocolates, light a candle, or something."
"It's not about last night," Waverly gently extracted her hands from his grasp. "Not really. I mean, yeah, last night is just a...symptom...of what's really been wrong in our relationship for so long. Don't you want more?"
Champ's face screwed up in confusion. "More? What do you...I'm sorry I can't afford to take you to fancy places or buy you-"
"It's not about money. I don't need you to take me out for expensive dinners. But, date nights where we actually left the bedroom would have been nice."
"We can do that. There's a new steak house-"
"I'm vegan." she reminded him.
"Well, I mean, they have salad right?"
"Salad is a side," Waverly reiterated a point she had made many times. "Its not a meal. It's-" she cut herself off, this was exactly what she didn't want to do. This wasn't a debate or a discussion on how things could be better. They'd had those discussions before and they never worked. It was over. She was done.
"That's not the point, Champ."
;"Then what is your point?"
She shot him a look. Did he really want her to say it again?
"I don't get it. I thought we were good."
"We were, for awhile. But, things have changed. We want different things."
"Different things...There's someone else, isn't there?" Champ asked, his face growing red, in embarrassment or anger, Waverly wasn't sure. "Who is he?"
"There's no other guy," Waverly said, sidestepping the accusation. She wasn't technically lying, and she didn't see what purpose it would serve to bring Nicole into this.
"Bullshit." Champ exploded, standing so quickly that he rattled the table, sending Waverly's thankfully empty beer glass toppling. "You've been all distant and squirrely for weeks and now you're done. There's gotta be another guy." He slammed his hands down onto the table, leaning forward, getting into her face. "Who is it?"
"There is no other guy," Waverly repeated. "And I'm not going to continue to discuss this if you're going to be like this." She waved her hand in his direction, indicating his general demeanor. "You can sit, and we can talk calmly. Or you can leave."
She held her breath, waiting, not entirely sure which option she hoped he'd choose. On one hand, she hated the idea of things ending on bad terms. She had hoped that they could be, well not friends exactly, but at least amiable. On the other hand, she really didn't want this to be a long, drawn out thing. As much as she loathed the idea of hurting him, she didn't want to be stuck in this booth having to explain and justify her reasonings over and over again, with him trying to wheedle his way back in.
"Whatever." Champ smacked the table once more and then turned and strode away.
Waverly sagged against the booth in relief, watching his retreating back as she hastily crossed the room, pulling on the door with more force than necessary, and then pulling it shut behind him with a slam. A few heads turned in his wake, before returning to their meals or conversations. She let out a long, shaky breath, blinking against the sting in her eyes. She had managed to hold it together for the duration of the conversation, but she could feel herself starting to become unraveled. Just because this was her decision didn't mean it wasn't difficult. She was still sad about the loss of what had been. Or, maybe the potential of what they could have been.
Whatever it was, her emotions were a maelstrom, and she didn't want to be sitting here when they sucked her in. She slid slowly from the booth, gait unsteady as she made her way across the bar to the stairs up to her apartment. She just wanted to crawl into bed, wrap herself up in a blanket, and have a good cry.
So intent on her destination, she didn't notice the figure leaning against the bar until she was almost on top of them. She was a few feet from the steps when she felt a touch to her arm, a voice in her ear. She jerked away from the hand resting just above her elbow, just barely refraining from letting out a yelp of surprise as her gaze swung around to take in a startled, and maybe a bit hurt, looking Nicole standing beside her.
"Sorry," Nicole mumbled, slowly withdrawing her hand. The dimpled smile disappearing, the twinkle in her eye dimming.
"No, I'm sorry." Waverly reached for the retreating hand, giving it a squeeze. "I didn't see you there. Lost in my old little world I guess." She let out a laugh that sounded fake even to her own ear. Of course this would be the time that Nicole showed up at Shorty's, instead of last night when Waverly had been hoping to run into her. As much as Waverly longed to spend more time with the other woman, she wasn't really up for chatting with her right now.
Nicole nodded, accepting the explanation. Some of the light returning to her gaze, before her brow drew furrowed as she peered more closely at Waverly. "Hey, are you okay?"
Waverly nodded, raising a hand to wave off her concern, but let it drop before she could complete the motion, and shook her head instead. "No," she admitted. "Champ and I broke up."
"Aww. Waves. I'm sorry." Nicole said, sounding genuinely sorrowful. Waverly peered up into gaze, seeing nothing but concern in the moment before she pulled her in for a gentle hug. Waverly melted into her, somewhat guiltily. For all that she was mourning the end of her relationship, she still felt a little flutter at the way Nicole said her name, and a fissure of heat at being in the other woman's arms, pressed lightly against her.
"Thank you," she murmured, into the side of Nicole's neck. She couldn't be sure, but she thought she felt a shiver course through the other woman at the faint brush of her lips against her skin. This close she could feel the gentle warmth radiating from her body. Smell the faint scent of vanilla. She bit back a soft whimper of disappointment as Nicole stepped back, though she kept her arms loosely around Waverly's waist.
"Is there anything I can do?" One of Nicole's hands rubbed soothingly at the small of Waverly's back, making her knees go a little weak.
Hold me? Sweep me up into your arms and make me forget his name? Not that she could ever say those things. Not that she actually wanted that, despite what her body was telling her. Nicole had the potential to be a very important person in her life, she didn't want to risk that by immediately jumping into something.
She shook her head. "I kind of just want to go upstairs, watch sad movies, and cry, y'know?"
Nicole pulled a sympathetic face, nodding. "Yeah, I get it. You have my number. I'm here, if you need me."
This, this was the difference between the man she had just ended things with, and the woman she might potentially be starting something with. Despite her very clear interest in Waverly, she wasn't pushing. She wasn't angling for a way in, the way Champ would have, if the situations were reversed.
"Thank you," Waverly said, giving arm a gentle squeeze. "Appreciate it." She offered up a wan smile, before continuing towards the stairs. Made it up the first two before something stopped her, made her turn back.
"Hey, Nicole?"
The other woman paused, drink halfway to her lips, turned her head. "Yeah?"
"How do you feel about sad movies?"
Nicole's lips slowly tugged up into a grin. "Love them." She put her glass back down on the bar and made her way towards Waverly, to follow her up the stairs.