Cuffed. [Norman Reedus]

12*The Wedding Ring {pt. 2}

Chapter Twelve ::: The Wedding Ring. {pt. 2}

{*UNEDITED*}

I take five minutes to compose my thoughts and rinse my face off with cold water once I'm in the restroom. Every muscle is against me going back out into the coffee shop to face him, but I do it anyway (somehow...)

"Hey!" Jeremy smiles at me once I return. "Where'd you go?"

"Oh," I say, my lips pushing into a line. "I just, had to take a piss." I explain blatantly.

Jeremy looks surprised at my language, but I brush it off before noticing the abnormally large bowl sitting in the center of the table.

"Uh, what's this?" I ask, sitting down.

"The soup of the day! We can share." Jeremy says, his cheeks blushing the slightest bit.

I widen my eyes, and force a smile before picking up my spoon. "What happened to coffee?"

Just then, the waiter returns with a tray full of four mugs. As he sets three of them in front of me, I look at Jeremy about to question why I have three coffees and he has only one. "Oh, I didn't know what type of coffee you liked so I got you the top three favorites of the week!"

While I'm opening my mouth to respond, the man sets down a handful of sweeteners and creams before smiling and walking back to the kitchen.

"Wow, uh, thanks," I stare at the mugs, trying to tell the difference, "which is which?" I ask.

"Try them!" Jeremy doesn't help, so I'm forced to take a nervous sip of each drink. The first tastes like plain black, the second has a strong vanilla-hazelnut taste (which is disgusting) and the third just tastes like watered down coffee.

Jeremy closely watches me as I try them, and as soon as I'm done, he grins. "Which is your favorite?"

"I think I'll just stick with black." I slide the other two full mugs to the back of the table. "Wanna try the soup now?" the conversation is not going how I planned earlier. I was hoping we would just chill out and laugh about my stories from the party, and then end with a handshake and a thank you. But here we are, sharing the soup of the day.

"Yes! We shall!"

To my astonishment, Jeremy pulls the straw out of his coffee, licks the coffee drips off the end, and sticks it into the large bowl of soup; all while keeping a strong eye connection with my wide eyes.

I attempt to push past my anxiety of the whole situation and take my spoon, quickly dipping it in the orange-reddish soup. With a loud slurp, Jeremy gulps through the straw as I silently eat off my spoon.

"So, uh, you know why we're here, right?" I ask, breaking the eye contact and awkward silence.

Jeremy's foot, once again, brushes against mine, but this time, he runs it up the side of my shin. I quickly pull away, "No! Not for that! I'm here to say thanks for bailing me out of jail!"

Jeremy stops slurping the soup and sort of retreats in his openness. Instead of smiling like I was expecting, he looks down in defeat. "I'm sorry, I-I thought. . ."

I sigh, unsure of what to say.

"You're welcome, though." he says, putting his straw back into his drink.

For almost a full second, he seems completely normal. Just sitting, looking around (not straight at me,) sipping his coffee and not making any physical connection with my feet at all. I almost smile, hoping that it will last, but then he looks at me.

"You don't know?" he asks, his voice sounding near stunned.

"What? That you're. . . ." I trail off, hoping I'm not making a completely wrong accusation of his actions and sexuality.

"Gay?" he blurts it out. "It's not a bad word, don't worry. I'm accepting."

I tighten up the slightest bit, surprised yet amazed that I hadn't thought of that before. "I guess not," my words hang in the air until Jeremy smiles.

"Sorry if I made this awkward," he chuckles. "I guess you don't like me back."

I take another spoonful of the soup before shrugging. "I'm not, I, uh,"

Jeremy looks at me. "You can say it."

The room gets hot as I get more uncomfortable, feeling as if I'm being pressured to say something. Even though he already knows what I mean, I spit out the sentence just to make him happy, "I'm not gay."

"Humph," Jeremy slumps back, rubbing his stomach. "I'm full." he pushes his glasses up before scooting out of the booth, the subject of the conversation changing in just a short second.

What?! I say to myself. That's it? We're just gonna say goodbye and go our separate ways? That was quick! I don't object, and stand up to bid Jeremy a thank you and a goodbye.

I stick out my hand to shake his, but he has other thoughts. After an unpleasant hug, Jeremy takes one last sip of his drink and leaves.

I stand inside the coffee shop, shocked and trying to understand what really just happened. It seemed as if the only reason he came with me was to find out whether or not I liked him back, and once he got his answer, he had no more business being with me. But he wasn't angry?

I contemplate my whole experience as I drive home. When I get back to my apartment, it's almost two in the afternoon. Before I can take Buck out, though, I'm distracted by something. Something shiny. . . Under my kitchen table. (And we all know that when we see something shiny, we must investigate.)

I bend down, and pick it up, realizing what it is immediately. The wedding ring that the man left at the bar the other night. I examine it in my hands, wondering if he ended up working things out with his wife.

Buck's bark plows my nosey thoughts as he scratches at the front door. "Oh, sorry boy." I say, standing up and walking to get Bucks leash. But before I take him out, I think about my bar job and that man once again. I take a look at the ring, debating with myself on what to do with it.

"What do ya' think, Buck?" I ask my dog. "You think he would want this old thing back?"

Buck just sits down, whining to go outside. "Hold on," I decide that this mystery man may, in fact, return to the very same bar. So I run back into my room, rummage around until I find an old chain, and slip the ring over the chain. As I walk back out to walk Buck, I wear the ring as a necklace; just in case mystery man comes back one day and asks for his ring back.