A Nice Guy

15

Hazel's blocked my number. Every time I reach out to her through a new number, she blocks that one too. Each message I send is just me begging for forgiveness, because that's obviously what she wants. She loves the attention, I bet. I'd been the one ignoring her, so she's probably getting a real kick out of me throwing myself at her this way. It's a shame she had to get my attention like this, though. Really fucked up if you ask me.

Truly I'm the actual victim in this entire scenario. I get led on by one of my closest friends, taken advantage of, and somehow I'm the monster. I don't even get to claim my own child. I have to pretend it's Derrick's fucking miracle baby. But for Hazel, I'll keep our secret between us. I'll watch on the side lines as they enjoy the pregnancy, for the sake of her happiness. That's just the type of friend I am, the man I am.

I've tried to date other women, to get my mind off of everything. But it's impossible. These women could never be even a fraction of what Hazel is to me, even after everything. I love her. Yeah, I'll admit it to myself. Either that or I have an unhealthy obsession with her, but I'm sure it's love. It has to be. I'm a normal guy, not a fucking psychopath.

March 4th. I'm eventually invited to yet another party. My friends like to call them get-togethers because it sounds more mature, whatever. I don't care. Call it what you want, I'll be there. And later that night, I stop by, adorning a fancy bottle of whiskey for the hosts. They're my friends, but I don't care enough to describe them or tell you their names, I'm here for Hazel. Fuck the rest.

She's sitting pretty next to her little hubby. She's starting to show, too. I can see her belly sticking out under the tight dress she's wearing. She looks great, but I make sure to keep my gaze on a leash. Can't have her thinking I'm plotting to rape her again. What the fuck ever.

I grab a beer, crack it open. Sit next to my buddy, Tom. Out of the corner of my eye I spot Anna. She's noticed me too. We quickly avert our gazes, as if getting caught staring at each other would ruin what we've tried so hard to accomplish; absolutely nothing between us. It's moments like this when I truly miss my best friend, before the fucking around. Yeah, it was fun while it lasted, but our friendship wasn't worth throwing away. I know that now. I also know it's too late. But even then, I catch her looking at me. She quickly looks away, but that small exchange gives me hope.

I know she's thinking about me, enough to look for me in this room of her closest friends. Me, the apparent monster. I sip my beer. The sip turns into a chug, and before I know it, it's gone and I'm crushing the can against my leg. I stand, grab another one. I linger in the kitchen for a while, staring blankly at the counter top in front of me, lost in my thoughts.

She startles me, Hazel, when she steps in my line of vision. She's looking remorseful. Offers me a hug, tells me she's missed me, accepts my multiple apologies. God, I could cry right now. Having her in my arms feels like fucking bliss. I let my hand find her waist, pulling her deeper into the hug. "Listen, I'm sorry. I'll say it every day if I have to, I just miss you," I tell her. She hugs me back. I can feel her crying into my chest.

She tells me she's missed me too, and we pull away from each other. I refrain from wiping her tears, that's too much, too soon. She does it herself. She laughs, clears her throat, and lets out a breath. "So, we're good now?" She asks.

"Of course," I reply.