Martin walked slowly along the sidewalk without any real purpose or direction, his eyes lowered to the uneven concrete squares beneath his feet as he continued to wander through the busy Friday night crowds that had now started to tumble out of the bars around him.
He watched the couples around him laughing as they ran hand in hand through the rain shower and lowered his gaze once more.
The more he tried not to focus his thoughts on Samantha the more prevalent she became in his mind and he felt his jaw clench in anger as he thought about her actions that night.
He had turned her down and so she would take the first man she found back to her bed in typical 'Samantha' fashion, retreating behind that carefully constructed wall that succeeded in keeping even the most constant heart at bay.
Had that been her intention for him that night? To be the warm body that kept her company until the morning came and she no longer needed that comfort or reassurance.
Unlike most women he had dated Samantha had no problem separating sex from love or affection. She saw it as a purely physical act, a way of relieving stress and reaffirming her own warped view of self worth.
He knew that her randomly selected 'friend' would be gone before the morning light; Samantha hated to keep her mistakes around for long, he himself was proof enough of that.
Yet even though he knew that to her it would be nothing but one meaningless night, the idea of another man holding her or kissing her or touching her, made him sick to the stomach.
He knew that she was no longer his to hold, yet his heart told him otherwise and the images now plaguing his mind made his chest ache in misery.
Martin reached up and loosened the knot in his tie, pulling the constricting garment away from his neck before jamming his hands in his pockets dejectedly.
The doors of the neighborhood bars were now spewing forth a continuous stream of pleasantly inebriated patrons and so not wanting to have to maneuver through the crowds, he took a seat on the low stone wall behind him.
Martin glanced up at the strangely familiar frontage of the bar opposite and released a weary sigh as he realized he had been walking in circles; strangely ironic given the events of the evening.
He had no idea how he found himself in this position once again; he had vowed to himself a long time ago that his feelings for Sam would have to go ignored, it was just too difficult and emotionally draining to try and pick through the minefield of issues and complications that a relationship with Samantha entailed.
And yet despite all his misgivings, despite all the heartache he had experienced the first time around, his feelings had never died. Being around each other again, being friends, finding that comfort and intimacy that they had once shared had reminded him just how much he missed her.
The guy in the bar would never know her; he would never know the woman he would hold in his arms that night.
To him, she was merely another nameless face, a distraction to pass the time; to Martin, she was everything.
But he didn't have the strength to deal with her problems and no matter how much he wanted to be the one to change her views on relationships and love, he had to resign himself to the fact that Samantha didn't want to change.
He stood up from the wall and stepped toward the curb, holding out his hand to try and hail a passing cab that would take him back home where he would undoubtedly spend the night torturing himself with images of Sam and this other guy.
Eventually a cab stopped, yet as he opened the door he felt his gaze pulled toward the sidewalk opposite.
There was Samantha, quite clearly the worse for wear after a few drinks and there beside her of course was the barman he had seen her flirting with earlier.
The cab driver turned to face his hesitant customer, tapping impatiently on the window of the passenger side, "Hey buddy, make up your mind!"
Martin watched her stumble slightly as she stood waiting for a cab, the arm of the random guy firmly around her waist as he repeatedly tried to draw her closer and kiss her neck.
"That your girl?" the cab driver followed his gaze across the street, watching the tension on Martin's face as he stared across at the blonde.
Martin sighed and ran his hand through his hair as he watched them, knowing if he intervened she would be mad at him, yet if he didn't he would never forgive himself.
"So… what're you doin' pal?" the driver asked, impatient to move on and find another fare.
"Damn you Samantha," he muttered angrily, knowing there was only one thing he could do.
Martin held up his hand apologetically and closed the door with a slam, waiting for the taxi cab to drive off before he tried to negotiate his way through the traffic and across the street.
Once again he found himself walking back to her.
xxxx
Samantha opened her eyes slowly, wincing as she felt her head throbbing angrily in response to the numerous martinis and tequila shots she had ingested the previous evening.
A wave of nausea washed over her as she licked her dry lips and tried to piece together the events of the evening. The dip of the bed behind her suddenly provoked vivid flashbacks of the night and the nausea in her stomach soon gave way to dread as she felt his body lying beside her.
She winced as she heard him stirring from sleep, silently berating herself once again for yet another horrendously bad decision. The events of the evening where vague; she recalled the bar, her head certainly recalled the alcohol and slowly her involvement with the barman came creeping back along with vague images of Martin that her hazy mind had yet to process.
Pressing her hand to her aching forehead she tried to find the courage to turn and face her latest mistake.
"Hey."
His sleepy greeting forced her to finally roll over and she eventually found the courage to look up at him, finding a pair of unrelenting blue eyes affixed on her face.
Samantha stared at him in confusion and let her head fall back against the pillow.
She had always hated the morning after.