Cherish Me (Rough Edges 3)

I wouldn’t deliberately ruin the wedding. They might think I’m selfish, but not that much. Okay, so I have a dilemma with timing, everyone knows that, but an alarm is already set for two hours before I need to be here tomorrow. As much as I hate weddings, I ain’t about to screw his up. He’s come back from losing his first wife to cancer, delve into depression, and fought his way out. If anyone deserves some happiness, it’s him.

After leaving Damon behind at the lodge, I jump in my truck and head over to Dixie bar, where it’s Karaoke night. Maybe I can find a girl to take home and get Hazel out of my mind. Instagram is the only way I can check up on her, and when I get a notification, I can’t help but look. Is it wicked to want to see if she’s doing better without me? From her posts, she clearly is, and it fucking kills me.

“Where have you been?” Natasha asks. She brings me my drinks most nights.

The one and only reason she prefers when I come is because I tip well. Bartenders are paid hourly, but tips are their bread and butter. The more alcohol we consume, the bigger her tips, but that doesn’t mean she hasn’t cut me off before. We have a love-hate relationship.

“Damon’s rehearsal dinner was tonight,” I respond, lifting the shot glass. “Doesn’t love make you sick? People turn into sloppy, high-pitched babies.”

Natasha has been serving me and my brother drinks since before we were legal. If anyone knows our shit, it’s her. Girls have their hairdressers to talk to like a therapist, mine is my bartender. And let me tell you, she gets paid well to listen to me bitch and moan.

“Whoever is responsible for making you like this, they did a damn number,” she says, before pouring me another shot. “Love is supposed to be magical. Not sickening. Only you would be the one to think that way.”

She has no idea. I roll my eyes and take the shot. “Keep em’ coming.”

I hate Friday nights at Dixie because you have to scream for anyone to hear you, even if you’re a couple feet away since the music is always way too loud. Yet, it’s the best night for there to be plenty of girls. Listen, I’m not a womanizer. Every girl is informed that I’m not the “dating” type, but I’ll take them back to my place and make their night. So far, none have had a problem with it, because contrary to popular belief there are as many women who want just sex as men. Sure, love and connection can make sex a million times better, but relationships aren’t for everybody.

“Listen, I know you got your heart smashed into a gazillion pieces, but don’t you think it’s time to move on? Like how long has it been?” Natasha asks, using a rag to wipe the bar down and look busy.

“Eight fucking years. It’s pathetic, right?”

It’s not like I haven’t tried to forget about her, but when you meet your soulmate early on in life, you don’t listen to other people. So many of my friends in High School told me we wouldn’t last into college, most relationships don’t. I didn’t want to listen, and brushed it off.

“I’m moving over there,” I point to the far side of the bar. “Keep the shots coming.”

The spot in the corner is away from all the foot traffic, but I can still see everyone as they arrive.

An hour and six shots later, I hitch an UBER home solo to crash. My drinking only continues to grow worse, but it’s the only thing that keeps my mind off her. Sure, meaningless sex is nice too, but won’t make me forget about her. The one that got away.

Hazel understood me on a deeper level, and made me a better person, not some pretty boy athlete. That was, until she turned down my proposal and hauled off to Massachusetts to attend Harvard. The most fucked up thing; we were together for four years and she walked away on graduation night and never spoke to me again. How the fuck is my heart expected to heal after that, or crave getting close to someone again? She crushed me.

Every once in a while, I think about texting her, but I don’t want to seem desperate. Plus, she’s probably happy and kicking ass in some court somewhere. Maybe one day I’ll get my second chance, but until then, meaningless sex it is.

Obviously, Damon didn’t mean to bring up all this old shit on purpose for me, he’s getting married, but it did, and now it’s stuck in the forefront of my mind. I try to push Hazel out of my mind as much as I can, because who wants to be the sappy loser still hung up on a girl from almost a decade ago? Honestly, it’s embarrassing, but when you know, you know. Sometimes, life can make us jump through hoops before we get to the final buzzer. I understand why she went to Harvard, and left me behind, but long distance could’ve worked. If her dad stayed out of our relationship toward the end, things might be better now. Yet, he voiced his apprehensions about dating while in college. It’s not like he didn’t like me. She could be dating a worse guy than me at the time, but he didn’t want her to mess up her chance at becoming a lawyer. Why he thought I would do anything to deter her away from her dream is beside me. If anything, I would have pushed her toward it with love and support. If he would have kept his mouth shut, my whole life could be different. Hell I would’ve moved to Massachusetts. We would be happy right now, having lots of sex, and she’d still be a kick ass lawyer. But instead, she’s there and I’m here drowning my regrets in shots and fucking thirsty women every night.

Sure, some might refer to me as a player, but I’m upfront and honest with every woman I take home. Hazel fucking broke me, and after that, relationships aren’t something I’m even remotely interested in. My heart and soul was left on the table for her, and she walked away from me and never looked back.

After Hazel pushed me away, I didn’t leave bed for weeks. My brother checked in on me, and made sure I didn’t do anything stupid, but I thought about it a couple of times. Young love is amazing and terrible at the same time. After about three months of her not returning my calls or texts, I stopped trying to reach her and move on with my life.

Here I am, eight years later, and she still runs across my mind almost every night. They say those that are together in high school never end up together, but I hope that’s false. I might be drinking my life away, but I still have hope that one day I’ll have another shot with her. When that day comes, I will do everything in my power not to fuck it up. Treat her like a queen, support her fully, and make her happy. That is what she deserves, and if only she would give me a chance to prove it.

When my opportunity comes, I need to be ready for her, and show her she needs a man that is caring, supportive, and can make her laugh so hard she snorts.

And that man is me.