Sadie (18+)

Chapter 42

Bryan lived about twenty-five minutes from the zoo, in a small apartment with two bedrooms. Vincent explained to me during the ride that he and his wife had been separated for two years now. Elena, his daughter, visited occasionally, but their relationship was strained.

"Are you sure you don't mind?" Vincent asked, turning to me, "because we can go back to the hotel, if you want."

It was nearing dusk, the sky enveloped in purplish hues. Vincent and I were standing outside the apartment complex, on the ground level. The man looked worn out, his usual shade of hazel dull, his eye bags prominent.

I shook my head. "It's fine. You need your friend—I get it."

"We won't be long. We'll have a drink, and head back."

Vincent knocked his knuckles against the door. I fidgeted, strangely nervous. Footsteps sounded before the door creaked open to a casually dressed Bryan, with a thickly grown beard. His hair, while already dark, appeared more so in the dim lighting of his apartment. I hadn't seen him since the funeral, but he looked rather unkempt in comparison.

He shook Vincent's hand with a wide grin, then pulled him in for a swift hug with a hard pat on the back.

His eyes swiveled to me when they'd pulled away from each other, taking in this strange situation which led me to his front door. However, there wasn't any surprise in his gaze, nor his expression, but in fact something that bordered on accusatory. I wondered what he was thinking, what judgments he conjured up. He quickly gave me a once over, my cheeks filling with heat.

"Sadie," he greeted with a nod. "It's nice to see you."

"You too," I replied, anxiously tugging at the hem of my sweatshirt. Bryan ushered us inside, quickly accommodating our presence and gesturing toward the two couches.

Bryan went to the kitchen to retrieve beverages from the fridge, so Vincent and I sat down in the living room. I was an acceptable distance away from him, too many inches between us on the same grey couch. I craved his closeness while in these unfamiliar surroundings, wishing I could lean against him.

I could not shake the feeling that I was unwelcome, but perhaps I was giving it too much thought.

I crossed my legs, my gaze drifting to various indicators in the room which hinted at disarray—an old pizza box and Chinese takeout containers on the kitchen counter, a coat haphazardly tossed on the armchair, empty bottles of alcohol on the coffee table, a pile of CD's on the floor. It was not necessarily dirty, but disorganized. A football game played through the television, its muffled noises filling the silence.

It gave me an odd, uncomfortable feeling, seeing the life Bryan lived. I would never want this for Vincent—if he and Gina didn't work out, if Julia only saw him once a month. It sounded miserable, to be exiled in such a way. I wondered if Bryan had done something to cause it, or if the marriage simply failed on its own.

It was why, selflessly, there was a part of me that wanted Vincent to work things out with his wife. What would he turn into if his marriage fell apart, a full-blown alcoholic, a man with infinite regrets? I wanted happiness for him, even at the expense of my own.

Even if somehow Vincent and I beat the odds, what would come of our relationship? Would he cheat on me, too? Surely his issues would not just cease to exist, not to mention both our drinking habits had spiraled within the time we'd spent together.

It was a tough pill to swallow, but an important one—Vincent and I were not good for each other. He was happier and healthier with Gina, while I seemed to make him violent, angry, desperate. I still thought about that slap out on the deck, the surprise that had engulfed me. I had never once seen any display of outrage from him before we had started the affair, and that itself was indicative enough.