Surrender

chapter 6

Chapter 6

Taking a deep breath, Sophie sank lower and lower against the porcelain, claw-foot tub until she was fully submerged beneath the lavender and vanilla water.

            One…two…three…four…five…six…seven…eight…nine…ten…eleven…

            With a harsh intake of air, she rose, blinking the soapy water away from her burning eyes. The bubble bath she'd been longing for all day hadn't done her nerves any good. Her sister was getting married. Sophie should have been happy. But for whatever reason, she wasn't. And it was bothering her to no end. She felt like she was being slowly and deliberately pushed toward the edge of a cliff. Before she started picturing herself with flailing arms and a gaping mouth ready to cry for help, she pulled on her robe and wrung the water from her hair, letting it fall carelessly over her shoulders. She hastily reached for her clothes.            

            She needed a drink, something stronger than the wine she'd shared with Angie just a few hours ago. She needed to talk to someone. But not just anyone. After avoiding Max for months, she realized he was the only person who would understand what she was going through.

            After tossing on a pair of worn out jeans and black tank top, she locked up and stormed down Main and Fourth. A few minutes later, her brisk pace had brought her downtown. At the end of the block and around the corner was McGuire's, Max's family-owned bar. Veiled in the city's shadow, she lingered outside of the bar for a moment. There'd be no turning back once she set foot inside. Knowing that Max wouldn't let go of her that easily, she had avoided his phone calls and visits for almost a year.

            As much as she hated to admit this, she needed him.

            Curling her trembling hands into fists, she started toward the door where a pair of men suddenly stumbled out, devilish grins plastered on their wasted mugs. The tall, shaven haired one held the door open for Sophie, his leering eyes watching her every move. Sophie held her head high and pretended she didn't notice as she passed. She bypassed the crowds of people near the pool tables and jukebox, making a beeline for the bar.

            Taking a look around, she felt as though she'd stepped inside of a time capsule. The sound of cues clashing against pool balls played like a song. A basketball game flashed on the large flat screen hanging over the bar. Carefree laughter danced in the smoky air. Nothing had changed. As much as she had tried to deny it, life had moved on without Sophie. 

            Rubbing at the pain in the back of her neck, she asked the bartender for a shot of whiskey. A moment later, she winced as the cool liquor burned the back of her throat. Convinced that she could use all the liquid courage she could get, she ordered another one.

            He was there like clockwork. Coming out of the backroom, carrying a crate of glasses, Max called something over his shoulder that was drowned out by the shouts from the group of people watching the game at the end of the bar.

            It wasn't too late for Sophie. He hadn't spotted her yet. All she had to do was get up and leave.

            Tucking a strand of unruly hair behind her ear, she grabbed her purse and rose from her seat. But before she was in the clear, Max's eyes locked onto hers, taking a double take as though he'd seen a ghost.

            "Sophie," he said.

            It was too late for an escape. He'd recognized her.

            Handing the crate off to the bartender, he came around to meet Sophie face-to-face.

            Her heart slammed against her chest as she struggled to fabricate an excuse to leave. A stomach ache, a migraine, her sister in the hospital…anything!