Chapter 3
"Hey!"
Dom's eyes fluttered open and then shut again.
"Hey! No sleeping at the bar!" the bartender yelled as he slapped the bar with his hand, startling Dom to wake up. His eyes flew open and he sat up straight in his chair.
"Look man, you gotta go. You were sleeping at the bar. Do you want me to call you a cab?" the bartender offered somewhat politely.
"Naw man," Dom said as he stood up, trying to find his balance. He was drunk, that much he knew. How the hell he was gonna get home was an entirely different problem. Shit. Home. How the hell was he gonna explain this one to Debbie? An hour away from home. Piss ass drunk. All because of her. Fuck her.
He stumbled out of the bar, bumping into a nearby trash can and almost knocking it over. He regained his balance and whipped out his sunglasses. The sun was way too bright after sitting...well...sleeping in a dark bar for four hours. He stumbled toward his car. He knew he shouldn't drive. But then again, he shouldn't be doing a lot of things. He fumbled for his keys anyway and attempted to unlock his car door. He couldn't seem to get the key in which was probably a good thing. "Fuck." He mumbled as his keys fell to the ground. He bent over to pick them up and that's when he noticed a motel across the street. The Cozy Inn, it was called. He laughed to himself. Cozy? In this part of town? Fuck it, he thought. He'd sleep it off, and drive home in a few hours.
He checked into a slum hole room and sprawled out onto the bed. "Ugh," he groaned, rubbing his head. He was in for one hell of a hangover. He closed his eyes and within seconds he was asleep...
"Dom you awake?"
His eyes fluttered open and her face slowly came into view. Her voice was extra raspy having just woken up herself. He smiled a sleepy smile and brushed a strand of hair from her face.
"Morning," he said, his own voice heavy and raspy as well.
"Morning," she replied, smiling slightly, "I'm gonna get a shower. I got a ten o'clock oil change comin in," she said as she pushed the covers off and sat up. A heavy arm caught her and pulled her back down.
"Dom!" she giggled, "seriously, I'm gonna be late."
He pulled her close and smoothed her hair back from her face.
"Just tell him, you had some business to attend to with your boss," he growled as he steadied himself on top of her, gathering her hands above her head.
"Business huh?" she purred as she leaned up, her lips meeting his.
"Yeah...business," he whispered as he worked her tank top up over her head. She ran her tiny hands up his back, her nails grazing his skin ever so lightly, just enough to drive him wild...
Dom's eyes flew open and he practically jumped out of bed. He looked around, his eyes wildly searching the room.
Fuck. Just a dream.
Of course it was just a dream. But it seemed so...real. They always did. It was always the same dream too. Waking up...next to her...seeing her face...touching her...laughing at her...laughing with her. Hearing her voice...
Her voice...
He looked at the clock.
12:30?! What the hell? He'd slept for eight and a half hours?! Shit.
He reached for his phone. Two missed calls. Home. Shit. Debbie. She was going to be pissed. Or was she? Debbie never really got pissed. Whatever. He gathered his stuff from the floor, checked out, and headed home.
He entered the condo quietly, practically tip toeing across the floor. The lights were off. The bedroom door was closed. She was probably asleep. Please be asleep... He opened the bedroom door quietly and peered in. Relief rushed over him. She was asleep.
Things were so different. His relationship with Debbie was so different.
She wouldn't have been asleep. She would have been waiting up. Smirking. Eyes dark. Arms crossed. Pissed. Awaiting an explanation. Owed an explanation. Sometimes he'd give her one. Other times he wouldn't. They'd fight like hell. They'd make up...
God, the making up...
Fuck.
He ran a hand over his head and grabbed his cigarettes, heading out onto the balcony of their condo. How the hell, four years later, could she still have this hold on him?! It drove him crazy. It was driving him crazy. But WHY? He had a new life. With Debbie. He loved Debbie. He was going to marry Debbie. They were going to buy a house. They were going to have kids.
Shit. Why was he saying "was", as in past tense? Are. That's better.
They ARE going to get married. They ARE going to buy a house. They ARE going to have kids. He'd moved on. He was moving on.
At first, four years ago, he thought he would never move on. Never meet anyone else. Never love anyone else. And then he met Debbie. He was attending a speech with Mia at her college. He didn't want to go, but Mia dragged him along to get him out of the house. Debbie was a friend of a friend of Mia's. They'd started talking. They hit it off. They went on a date. He was surprised how much he liked her. She wasn't what he was normally attracted to. She was clean cut. Proper. She had a bachelors degree in business. She was an Investment Specialist. A businesswoman. She wore skirts and pressed shirts, and she carried a briefcase. She was completely opposite than...her.
Her wore leather. Leather pants. Leather skirts. Clingy, snake skinned shirts. Leather boots. She was loud. Carried a knife. She cursed. A lot. She was a bitch. She was overprotective. A lover. A fighter. She never wore makeup. She lived fast. She loved fast. And slow. She pissed him off. A lot. They fought a lot. They made up a lot. She was messy. They were messy. It ended...messy...
And that's when it hit him. It was the way it ended. Messy. He'd never gotten closure. He NEEDED closure. He had to see her. Not to get her back. He didn't want her back. He didn't. He loved Debbie. Debbie was his life now. Letty was his past. He had to see her one last time. For closure.