Of Love & Regret (4 page)

Read Of Love & Regret Online

Authors: S. H. Kolee

I left my
untouched bottle of beer on the table, and we filed out of the bar without
speaking. I wanted to take a cab home so I could escape Logan’s company as soon
as possible, but I knew that would result in another fight, so I just climbed
into his SUV without saying a word.

The drive to my
apartment was quiet and tense, and I could see how tightly he was gripping the
steering wheel by his white knuckles. I wasn’t sure if I was angry with him or
at myself for overreacting. Either way, I couldn’t think of anything to say.

“You can just drop
me off,” I said when he started to parallel park into an empty spot on my
street. “You don’t need to come up.”

Logan ignored me as
he finished parking, and cut off the ignition. He turned to me, his face grim
and shadowed in the darkness of the car. “We need to talk. I’m coming up.”

I crossed my arms
against my chest, trying to put some sort of barrier between us so that I
didn’t feel so vulnerable. Letting Logan come up to my apartment right now
would be a big mistake. Neither of us was acting like our normal self, and I
was scared of what that could lead to.

“We can talk here.”

Logan sighed and turned
away from me, resting his head back against his seat. “Madison, why are you
upset with me?”

“I’m not.” I
forced my tone to be emotionless because I was afraid of what might spill out
of me if I wasn’t careful. “I’m just tired, and like you said, I’ve had too
much to drink. I just want to go to bed.”

“You know I care
about you.” His voice was hushed but it seemed to fill the interior of the car.
My heart started thudding against my ribcage but I tried to keep calm.

“I care about you,
too,” I replied, trying to paste a smile on my face. “You’re one of my closest
friends, and I value your friendship. Let’s just forget about what happened
today. Both of us seem to be on edge. You’re probably tired from being
overworked. As for me, maybe it’s just that time of the month.”

My lame joke fell
flat, making me feel foolish as the silence stretched on between us. I fidgeted
nervously, wanting to fling the car door open and run to my apartment, away
from this uncomfortable situation.

“Okay,” Logan said
finally, turning towards me. He tried to smile but it was half-hearted. “We’ll
just blame it on your hormones.”

I tried to laugh
but it sounded forced. I made my voice cheerful. “Well, thanks for driving me
home. I’ll talk to you later.”

Logan nodded, an
inscrutable expression on his face. “Sure. Talk to you later.”

I hesitated,
feeling like I should say more, but I wasn’t exactly sure what. Instead, I just
opened the car door and stepped out, closing it behind me. I awkwardly waved at
Logan through the car window and then turned around, forcing myself to not run
to the entrance of my apartment building and away from his piercing gaze. After
I unlocked the front door, I turned around and gave one last wave, but Logan
just watched me without returning the wave.

I was relieved
when I closed the door behind me and he was out of sight. I ran up the flights
of stairs to my apartment, careful to hold the handrail since all the beer I
drank was still affecting me. The first thing I did when I got to my apartment
was walk over to the living room window that faced out onto the street. Logan’s
car was still parked there, and I held my breath as I waited for him to leave.

Minutes went by
and still the car just sat there. I was starting to wonder if he was planning
on staying there all night when he finally pulled out into the street and drove
off. Instead of feeling relieved, my chest tightened as I watched the tail lights
of his car disappear.

Chapter Four

 

I woke up with the
mother of all hangovers the next morning. I groaned as I covered my eyes
against the offensive sunlight that streamed through my bedroom window. I had
forgotten to close the shades last night before collapsing into bed, and now I
was paying the price.

I gingerly turned
my pounding head towards my alarm clock on the bedside table and saw that it
was already almost noon. I closed my eyes, deciding that Sundays were meant to
laze about and there was no shame in sleeping in until the late afternoon.

My attempt to go
back to sleep was interrupted by my cell phone ringing. All sleepiness vanished
at the sound, and I grabbed my phone. I didn’t know whether I was disappointed
or relieved when I saw that it was Emily, not Logan.

“Hey,” I croaked
out. “I think I’m dying.”

“What’s wrong?”
Emily sounded alarmed. “Are you sick?”

“Yes. It’s called
death by imbibement, and I have a severe case.”

“You’re just hung
over,” Emily scoffed, her concern disappearing. “Here I thought you were
actually ill.”

“I am,” I
insisted. “I think my liver has stopped functioning.”

“I’m sure all your
major organs are working fine,” she said dismissively. “Meet me for brunch. I’m
starving.”

Despite, or maybe
because of, my hangover, I perked up at the thought of greasy breakfast food.

“Okay, but give me
an hour. It’s going to take a while for me to haul my ass out of bed and crawl
into the shower. How about one o’clock at Ann Sather?”

“Sounds good,”
Emily chirped, her sympathy for my condition having completely disappeared.
“See you then.”

By the time I
stepped out of my apartment building, I was feeling like a human being again.
The aspirin and copious amounts of water I drank did wonders to make me feel
better. Ann Sather was a short walk away from both my apartment and Emily’s,
and she had already snagged a table when I arrived.

“You look like
crap,” she announced when I plopped into the seat across from her.

“Thanks,” I said
sarcastically. “It’s good to see you too.”

“Let’s hurry up
and order, and then you can tell me all about the foolish things you did last
night.”

After we had given
our order to the waitress, Emily leaned back in her seat and studied me
speculatively. “Did you go out with Adam last night?”

I shook my head.
“No, he’s busy this weekend. He has a lot of writing to get done.”

Her eyebrows rose
disbelievingly, but she didn’t comment on it. I knew Logan wasn’t the only one who
had doubts about the novel Adam was supposedly working on.

“So, obviously you
were with Logan.”

I frowned. “Why is
that obvious?”

Emily laughed.
“Because you spend more time with him than you do with your actual boyfriend.”

Her statement
reinforced my realization last night that I was becoming too dependent on Logan.
I didn’t think it was fair to either of us.

“Well, you’re
right,” I replied with a sigh. “I hung out with Logan, but I’m starting to think
our friendship isn’t healthy.”

“Your friendship
isn’t healthy because you both really just want to boff each other.”

“That’s not true!”
I protested vehemently. “Things between us are strictly platonic.”

“Uh-huh,” Emily
replied, not looking convinced. “What happened last night that makes you think
your friendship isn’t healthy?”

I waited to answer,
because the waitress chose that moment to arrive with plates of the
restaurant’s famous cinnamon rolls that came with every order. Emily started in
on hers enthusiastically, but I just stared at mine, my appetite vanishing as I
tried to find the words to explain what exactly had happened last night. I
wasn’t really even sure of it myself.

“It was just
weird,” I finally said. “Logan and I never fight, but yesterday we couldn’t
stop bickering. It was like we kept taking what the other person said in the
wrong way. I think the reason why I drank so much was because I was feeling uncomfortable
and nervous.”

“Maybe it’s all
the sexual tension that’s built up between you two,” she said in between bites
of her cinnamon roll. “Just screw each other’s brains out and get it over
with.”

I laughed, but the
sound was hollow. “You think everything is solved by sex.”

Emily frowned
exaggeratedly. “Isn’t it?”

I sighed as I
picked up my fork, finally taking a bite of a cinnamon roll. It was warm and
gooey with plenty of icing, but it tasted like sand in my mouth.

Emily stopped
eating as she studied me. She seemed to realize that I was seriously bothered
by last night. “What’s really wrong?” she asked, no longer joking. “Did Logan
try something?”

“No, it was
nothing like that. It was just

” I
paused as I searched for the right words. “I was just aware of him in a
different way yesterday. It’s not that I think of him as anything more than a
friend, but things just felt different between us. Like there was something
unspoken that neither of us were willing to address.” I frowned as I thought
about my statement. “At least, I wasn’t.”

“What was it that
was unspoken between you two?” she asked.

“I don’t know.
That’s the problem. Whatever it was, it made me super sensitive and defensive
about everything he said. The thing is, I wasn’t the only one who was acting
differently. He insulted Adam, something he never does—at least, not so obviously.
And it seemed like he was upset with me, but I’m not sure why.”

“He just probably
thinks Adam isn’t good enough for you,” Emily contended. “And he’s right.”

I waved aside her
comment. “I really don’t want to get into the merits of my relationship with
Adam right now. Besides, his comments about Adam were only a small part of the
issue last night. It was more than that. It was like he wasn’t filtering his
thoughts and was just saying whatever was on his mind.”

“Is that a bad
thing? I don’t understand what the problem is.”

I was frustrated
because I wasn’t sure what the problem was either. “You weren’t wrong when you
said I spend more time with him than I do with Adam. That’s a problem. I’m
beginning to realize that our friendship may be crossing some lines. Not any
romantic sort of lines, but emotionally. I think we’re too dependent on each
other. Maybe that’s why Logan is never in a relationship longer than half a
second. Maybe that’s why my relationship with Adam is deteriorating.”

“Are you sure it’s
not because you’re not being honest with yourself about your feelings for
Logan?” Emily asked. “I’ve seen the way you two interact. You’re the most couply
non-couple I’ve ever seen.”

This was territory
I didn’t want to delve into too deeply, even though I had been the one to bring
it up. It would only make me more confused. Logan and I were just friends.
There would never be a possibility of anything more.

“Let’s drop the
subject of Logan. It’s giving me a headache. I think I just need to chill out
and not overanalyze everything to death. We’re friends. We had an off night
last night. That’s all it was.” I wasn’t sure if I believed myself, but saying
it out loud made me feel better.

“If you say so,”
Emily said disbelievingly, but she didn’t push the subject. Unfortunately, the
next topic she brought up made me feel even more uncomfortable. “Cassie’s
birthday is next weekend, isn’t it?”

I nodded stiffly.
I had met Emily long after Cassie’s death, but she knew how much it had
impacted me even though I had never shared the details of it with her. She also
knew that I went back to Laurenston for her birthday every year, although I had
never revealed how sick Mrs. Brooks was. I preferred to keep that part of my
life separate from my present reality.

“Do you need
someone to go with you?” she asked. “I’d be more than happy to.”

I felt a rush of
warmth at her considerate offer, but I shook my head. I didn’t want the two
worlds to mix. “I appreciate the offer, but that’s okay. It gets easier every
year. I won’t be there long anyways.”

I didn’t want to
mention that Logan was coming with me, so I changed the subject to the latest guy
Emily was dating. Our food arrived, and I was able to push my problems to the
back of my mind as I enthusiastically ate my Eggs Benedict and listened to
Emily regale me with tales about her latest dating conquests.

The rest of brunch
was enjoyable, and I was feeling much better when we parted ways. Emily was an
assistant to a prominent interior designer, and the rest of her day was
dedicated to finding a certain fabric a client was demanding.

With a full
stomach and only a slight headache, I decided to try to get a head start on my
column for next week when I got home. An hour had passed as I stared at the
blank page on the screen of my computer when I finally admitted to myself that
I was waiting for Logan to call. The fact that he hadn’t was distracting me,
and it bothered me more than I wanted to admit.

I picked up my
phone, but I hesitated, my finger hovering over the button to dial his number.
I didn’t know what I would say to him. I had already realized that we were too
dependent on each other, so I should be giving him space instead of reaching
out to him. I put the phone down, but I couldn’t deny the disappointment I felt
in not being able to talk to him. Even though I had seen him just yesterday, I
missed him, and I was anxious about the way things had ended last night.

I jumped when my
phone beeped, indicating an incoming text message. Seeing the name Logan
Delaney appear across the screen of my phone made me happier than it should
have, and I eagerly opened up his text message.

 

What are you doing?

 

It wasn’t much,
but it was better than nothing. I quickly typed out my reply.

 

Trying to get a head start on my column for
next week, but I think I’m brain dead. What are you doing?

 

I was tense as I
waited for Logan’s reply, unused to this uncertain feeling when it came to him.

 

Watching Rear Window. I’m sorry about last
night. I think we both regret the things we said. Let’s just chalk it up to us
being overly sensitive.

 

I breathed a sigh
of relief. Logan seemed to be willing to sweep this under the rug, and I was
more than happy to oblige.

 

I’m sorry too. I promise to keep my
bitchiness in check next time. What channel?

 

Logan texted me
the channel that was airing
Rear Window,
and
I flicked on my television and turned to it. We were both big Hitchcock fans,
and
Rear Window
was one of my
favorite movies. I wasn’t surprised when moments later, my phone rang. Logan
and I had watched TV together more than a few times over the phone. I had never
really thought twice about it before, but now I realized that it was probably a
part of us being too dependent on each other. That realization didn’t stop me
from answering his call.

He sounded tentative
at first, but soon we were both engrossed in the movie. We didn’t talk much
except to make a few comments about the film, but it was comforting to know
that he was on the other end of the line. I lay down on the couch and put my
phone next to me. I could hear the sounds of the movie echoing from his side,
and it made me feel closer to him.

“Did you fall
asleep?” he asked when the credits started to roll.

“No, I’m still
here.” Now that we no longer had the movie to talk about, I was struggling to
think of something to say.

“Thanks for
watching the movie with me. I have some work that needs to get done, but I’ll
talk to you tomorrow, okay?” Logan sounded uncertain, which was uncharacteristic
of him. He seemed to move through life so confident and self-assured that it
was odd to hear him so tentative.

“Sure,” I said,
keeping my tone light. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

I felt oddly bereft
when he disconnected the call, but told myself I was being ridiculous. If I
didn’t want to lose Logan as a friend, I had better set some boundaries.
Otherwise, I had a bad feeling that our friendship would veer severely
off-track, never to be recovered. And not having Logan in my life was something
I didn’t want to consider.

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