Lost for Words

There's No Smoke

I found him in one of the cubicles in the men's room. The door was shut and locked, but a familiar pari of shoes was visible through the gap at the bottom of the partition. For a moment I considered my options. I could just walk out of here and leave him, hope that he would snap out of his funk. I could force the door and drag him out., Or ...

So, I went for the third option. I knocked on the cubicle door, hoping that he would answer me. "Hey? Are you alright in there?"

There was the sound of shuffling, then a tearful, choked voice answered me. "What do you want?"

I took a deep breath. "You really need to - ."

The reply was resentful. "Just leave me alone. I don't want to come out."

I balled my fists in frustration. "Look, I know you've not been in the best of places since Samantha - ."

"You don't know anything!" This time his response was harsh and full of barely-suppressed anger. "She was my life to me!"

"I know. We all know. We've seen how you've gone downhill. And - believe me - we all feel for you. I feel for you."

There was a pause. "Just go away. I'm not worth it. There was only one person I loved, and she's gone. There's nothing left for me. I may as well be dead. So just leave me here."

Dead? The selfish bastard! I leaned on the cubicle door and lowered my voice. "Look, everything comes to an end. Everything. But that doesn't mean it's over for you. Not now. Not here. And - for crissake - not in this way." My voice broke, and I choked on the words.

"You - you mean it?"

The change in his tone told me that I was getting through to him. I cleared my throat. "Do you think I wouldn't have come here for you if I didn't mean it? Really?"

There was the clunk of the bolt being drawn back, and the door opened. I saw him standing there, looking unsure and embarrassed. His face was red and streaked from crying, his hair messed from where he had been pawing at it. "You really mean it?"

I looked around the bathroom, checking we were alone. "I mean it." Then I reached out towards him and pulled him close, into a manly embrace. "Of course I mean it."

We held each other for a minute.

As he pulled away, he looked at me. "Have you been crying?"

I raised my arm and wiped my face with the sleeve of my shirt. "No. I've got something in my eyes. That's all. But - no more bullshit, 'kay? The place is on fire and we've got to get out of here."