I wasn’t lying when I said I haven’t eaten all of them. In fact, I’ve only been eating one piece every night. And not because I don’t want to gain weight, though I really feel like I have.
At first, I thought it was just because I wanted to relish the chocolates that Ethan chose and bought for me. I wanted them to last because I’ll likely never have them again, just like I’ll never have Ethan again. But then after the third day, a part of me started thinking of each piece as a symbol of hope. Every night, when I popped a piece into my mouth, I’d hope and pray for Ethan to come to his senses and love me. I started believing that until I finished all the chocolates, there was a chance that could happen.
Stupid.
I grab the box and open it on my lap. I’m thinking I’ll gobble up all the chocolates right now and do away with my hope and my stupidity. To hell with getting fat.
I grab two pieces and stuff them both inside my mouth. Like before, I close my eyes to savor the texture, the taste…
I cover my mouth as I gag. What the hell?
I run to the bathroom to throw up. Afterwards, I wash my mouth.
What was that horrid taste? That wasn’t there before. Did the chocolates go bad?
When I go back to the room, I check them. They all look exactly the same and they all seem fine. I consider trying one more, but just remembering that awful taste is enough to make me shake my head.
Maybe tomorrow.
I put the box back on the nightstand. My journal falls to the floor.
As I pick it up, I remember the night I accidentally brought it to the office. That was a Friday night, too.
It’s strange how so much has happened since then.
I read my latest entry, the one where I wrote down everything that happened in Switzerland. Well, everything but the sex. That’s firmly embedded in my memory.
Should I write a new one tonight?
I’m still thinking about it when my phone rings. I wonder who’s calling as I take it out of my purse. My eyes grow wide when I see Jess’s name on the screen.
Right. She asked for my number after I gave her the chocolates.
I answer the call. “Hello.”
“Stella. Hey, are you busy?”
“No,” I tell her.
“Then would you like to come over? I’m at a bar my friend owns. It turns out he met this Swiss girl online and he’s obsessed with her so he’s trying to learn all about Switzerland. When I said you’d just been there, he told me to invite you over. He even said he’d give you free drinks. What do you say?”
I take a moment to think. I’ve never really been to a bar. Then again, there’s a first time for everything and I can’t think of any reason why tonight can’t be that first time. I don’t have anything better to do.
Besides, going out might help me forget about Ethan, even for just a little while.
I grab my pen.
“What’s the name of the bar?”
~
So this is what a bar looks like, I think as I step inside The Red Barrel.
I see the bar alright, the counter gleaming and about half the leather stools lined up beside it occupied. I see wine barrels painted red and converted into tables. Dim lights hang from the ceilings. Red vinyl records encased in huge bottle caps hang from the wall. There’s a dartboard in one corner and a billiards table in another. Piano music streams softly from the speakers.
Weird. I thought a bar would be noisier.
Just then, I hear shouts from upstairs. I guess that’s where the party’s happening. I wonder if Jess is up there.
I’m about to walk towards the spiral staircase when I hear my name.
“Stella!”
I turn and see Jess, who runs over to me and gives me a hug.
“I’m glad you could make it.”
“Me too,” I tell her. “I’ve never been to a bar before.”
Her eyes grow wide. “No kidding?”
“Nope.” I glance around. “Is Randy here?”
“No. He has his own thing Friday nights.”
I’m curious about what it is, but I don’t ask.
Jess grabs my hand. “Come on. I’ll introduce you to my friend, Pete. I think you’ll like him.”
Chapter Sixteen
Ethan
I can’t believe Stella has moved on to another guy.
I gulp down my Scotch, hoping it will burn the image of Stella flirting with a guy in a bar out of my head. Or at least blur it. It doesn’t. I set my empty glass down with a thud, my temper still fuming.
Fuck.
I dropped by her apartment because I was worried about her. I was afraid she’d be feeling lonely again, crying while scribbling in her journal or staring at the picture of her dead parents. I was just going to check on her but then I saw her coming out of the building. She looked like she was in a hurry.