Small Town Big Man

I'm not going to look up though, I'm going to eat my soup and my grilled sandwich, and then go right back to work. He's a one night stand, and this awkward reunion will be over shortly.

“I need to ask you something,” he says, his cheek puffed out with a bite of the sandwich.

Oh lord, no.

What could he possibly want to ask me? Does he want to talk about what happened? God, I hope he doesn't want to talk about our night together.

Grabbing a napkin from the holder, I wipe my lips and finally find the courage to look in his eyes. “Okay. . .” Drawing out the word, I wait nervously.

“What was the deal with the cheese at my house?”

The weight on my chest releases and I'm able to laugh. “Oh, that's an old family secret to stop a hangover. I know it looks crazy, but it works, I swear.”

He chuckles with me as he's nodding his head. “It must have worked really well, you were super lively that morning.” He takes another mouthful of sandwich, and that awkward silence fills the space between us again.

I'm embarrassed. He probably thinks I'm some sort of slut.

“Look,” I say quickly, bouncing my hand in the air. “I don't normally do things like that, it's just not me.”

“You don't need to explain anything to me,” he cuts in quickly.

“But I do,” I answer, determined to explain. “Things have been rough, and with everything I had to drink that night, I just. . .” I pause, dropping my eyes to the table and then lifting them back up. “I was just looking to feel good, is all. Forget all the shit for a few hours.”

He lifts both hands, resting them against his chin as he braids his fingers together. His eyes flutter around my face as a knowing smile causes his lips to shift up. His mouth is thin, his smile sympathetic. “You got dumped, huh?”

Sighing loudly, I shake my head yes. “It sucked. It still sucks, actually.”

“I'm sorry to hear that.”

“No, don't be. It's okay,” I say, brushing a lazy hand through the air. “He was a dick. And worse, I knew he was dick too, but sometimes love makes you ignore all those red flags.” Anders grunts in support, like he knows what I mean. “But we had a history, so I let myself fall deeper and deeper and not see him for who he truly was. Which was a big giant dick.”

Anders smirks, and chuckles. “Well, that still sucks.”

“What sucks is I caught him fucking his editor one night when I went to bring him dinner at work. Of course, it's my fault though, I drove him to it. All my constant complaining and demands. Then he threw some low blows, bashing the size of my nose, and how I was lucky he stayed with me as long as he did. My confidence hasn't been so great since, which is how I ended up at the Bear Claw in the first place.”

“Wow, he's not just a dick, he's a royal fucking asshole.”

“I see that now, but the saddest thing is I thought he actually loved me. I had a future all planned out. there was no plan B. I thought he was it. I fell for it, I fell for it like the idiot I am.”

“You're not an idiot.”

“I must be if I thought I ever had a chance of a future with that prick. But we were at two very different ends of our relationship. He refused to talk about marriage or kids, just brushing it off every time. Marc couldn't be bothered with anything serious.”

“So basically the other night was all about rebound sex?”

“No, no,” I say quickly, opening my eyes wide. “That's not what I mean. See, we had lived together for six years, and I couldn't stay there anymore, I had to get out. So I booked this place for two months to get away. I needed to clear my head. I've been working, reading, doing a little yoga too. But the break-up was just so nasty. He did his best to really tear me down, and it worked. My appearance, my intelligence, all of it. So the other night I finished this self-help book, and I guess I took the advice a little too far. I interpreted ‘invest in self-care’ like the author recommended, as ‘go get massively shit faced and laid.’ I felt like it would give me the confidence I needed to really feel like myself again. The alcohol was really my secret weapon, though.”

“Did it work? Did you get the extra boost you needed?”

“Yeah, it did actually.” Smiling as I bite my grilled cheese, I say, “It also helped give me the spark I needed to put that dirtbag in his place at the bar.”