lovely police officer has written us. Shall I move the car or continue to stand here and smile?” the driver questions me for the second time.
“Don’t you dare move this car! I’m not going anywhere until I see her leave that bloody building,” I bark, not sure why I’m taking my anger out on my poor driver. He’s had to put up with my cross mood for weeks, ever since I came back to this dreadful city. New York hates me and has always triggered nothing but pain for my family. He nods and accepts another citation from the livid old bill who very colorfully threatened to have our Benz towed. I don’t care! I only care about seeing who leaves this wretched hotel. The way our car is positioned, I have both hotel exits in perfect view and I won’t miss a thing.
I’ve gone through at least twenty different emotions over the past two hours I’ve been sitting here physically trying to contain myself from running back up to fetch her. When I first heard Jeff, or the love of her life as she refers to him as, mention that they have children together, I was certain it was a hallucination. I mean, bloody come on, if they had children, she’d have told me, wouldn’t she? Does she think me that thick? Once his words penetrated the proper side of my brain, I began to operate on autopilot. All I wanted to do was run away and never look back, pretend the last twenty-four hours were all a bad dream.
Then, to make sure I lose the plot, after weeks of waiting, I finally see Emily. But since fate is a blind whore with mental disease, she had to make sure I saw her with Louis, crying. I didn’t feel the way I’d imagined I’d feel seeing them together. All I could think when I saw Emily upset and in tears was, Please take care of Sara… Please don’t be hard on Sara… Please don’t hurt my Sara more than I just did. Which only confirms that I must be delusional to be infatuated with yet another unattainable woman: Sara, a girl I clearly know close to nothing about, who’s told me about a whoreson she loves, a dickhead that abandons her in the middle of the night, with whom she happens to also have children. It’s safe to say I’m well past livid. I’m not even sure my body has gotten enough oxygen since I haven’t been able to breathe properly; I’m just numb. Words mean nothing, they’re just an arrangement of letters, and yet I’m certain they just did more damage than any bullet ever could.
I’m still here at the corner of 5th Avenue and 61st Street waiting for her like a lifeless loon. She pulls every string in my heart and by walking away, I just stretched those strings even tighter. The poor girl had begged me to stay. I can hear her tormented voice echoing in my head as she yelled after me. She was crying. I’m no different than him; I also made her cry. But she must understand I couldn’t just bloody stand there and hash things out in front of that bastard. I couldn’t have her announce that she chooses him right to my face; I wouldn’t survive it. Not her, I couldn’t let her do that to me. How can I expect her to choose me if they have children together and they have a history? What if he was her husband? Fuck!
Now that I’ve had a few hours to be away from Sara and simmer, I’m rather upset with myself. I acted cowardly—not like a Knight, not even like a man. Jeffery Rossi may be a monumental arsehole, but he continued to fight for her, he was ready to do or say anything to intimidate me and break the bond he felt we shared, and he did. If he was our first test, then I failed miserably; crash and burn fail. She begged me to stay, why didn’t I listen? Why did I leave her? She deserves a man who will fight for her. I reckon she needs a real man and not a wally like me. I only wanted to make those beautiful, sad eyes happy, and yet I made everything infinitely worse. I fucking ran the first chance I got.
I’m buggered and famished and logic tells me to leave. I had my chance with her and I handed her