Page 81 of Finally Moore
“Good, good.” Zach sips his water.
“Toni, she’s doing good too,” I say.
“Yeah…?” He perks up a bit but then immediately feigns disinterest.
“Yup…” I debate on telling him, but if he doesn’t already know, he’ll find out eventually, “…and she’s engaged.”
He frowns. “Oh, that’s good.” Based on the way he’s chugging his champagne, I have a feeling that he’s not as okay with it as he’s pretending to be. “Who’s the guy? Wait, no. I don’t want to know.”
“Okay,” I call his bluff.
“Fine, who is it?”
“Josh.”
“Fucking, goddamn it…” he grumbles as he pours himself another glass.
“Excuse me, Mr. Young. I hate to interrupt but there’s a matter requiring your attention.”
“Sorry, Scott, duty calls,” Zach says, clearly welcoming the opportunity to escape his past the best he can. “One minute.”
“I’ll be here,” I tell him with a two-finger salute.
It’s only been a few minutes, but it feels like an eternity as I sit in almost pure darkness, listening to the soft instrumental music. I know I should be happy my friend is giving up his big night to chill with me. But, honestly, right now I feel more like a burden than anything else. I push to my feet, prepared to call it a night, when the curtain opens again. I can’t make out who’s standing in front of me at first, but based on the petite frame, I know it’s definitely not Zach.
“I hate to be a bother, but would you mind telling Zach—I mean, Mr. Young—that I had to go?” The figure steps farther into the space, and the light from the table illuminates her sparkling gold dress, bouncing off the surface and lighting up her face. “Scarlett?”
“Hey, Scott.” She bites on her lip as she wrings the small clutch in her hand.
“What are you doing here? And how’d you get in?”
“It took some embarrassing groveling with the host, but after I said your name, he made a call. I talked to this Zach guy who seemed relieved when I told him I was looking for you, and he had someone escort me back here.”
“I mean… why are you here?”
Her eyes lock with mine. “Hopefully righting a really big wrong before it’s too late.”
“Scarlett, I don’t know—”
“Please, I know I don’t deserve it, but can I just say this and when I’m done, you can tell me to go away, and I’ll never bother you again?”
This past week, I’ve fought the urge to make her talk to me. But now that she’s here, I’m not sure. Despite my hesitancy, I won’t lie. I really want to hear what she has to say, so I nod.
“Thank you.” She takes a deep breath. “I messed up, big time. Like colossally huge! Here we were, together, and it was perfect…too perfect. I couldn’t believe it, that everything I ever wanted was right there in front of me. I’d been so convinced that the only genuine good men were fictional, but there you were. Living, breathing, hot-blooded, and just waiting for me. I had you and I was stupid enough to let my own insecurities push you away. Because I kept thinking to myself…how could someone as perfect as Scott want someone as messed up as me?”
I take a step towards her, but she raises her palm and I halt.
“I followed you to the office, and when Amanda called, I listened outside the door. I heard the part of the conversation I wanted to hear. That you were excited she called, how it was perfect timing. Then I made the rookie mistake of assuming that your excitement was over her sudden availability and that timing was perfect because your obligations to me were over. Instead of asking you or letting you explain, I decided to end it first so you couldn’t break my heart.” She sniffles. “But it didn’t work because I broke my own heart anyway.”
“Mine too,” I admit.
“I know, and I’m sorry. If I could go back and just talk to you—”
“But we can’t go back.”
Scarlett swipes a tear from her cheek. “I understand. I’m so sorry… for everything.”
I grip her wrist before she leaves. She looks up at me with wide eyes. “We can’t go back,” I repeat as I reach up and wipe away the moisture rolling down her soft cheeks. “But we can go forward. Start over.”