Six Ways To Say "I'm Sorry..."

That I Kept This

Slim

Her laughter rang out like tinkling bells, and I couldn’t help but feel giddy. Here I was, thinking I was to be alone for the evening, possibly without even any drinks or smokes (my cigarettes had run out earlier). Then, out of no where, the beautiful woman who I had tried to rescue earlier returns with a tray of some sort of mexican food and agrees to go out for a cuppa with me. Life is good.

We entered my favorite coffee place, which also happened to be run by a friend. He was never there during open hours; He only came after closing and baked more pastries for the display case. Still, the coffee was good and I liked the atmosphere. Taking our seats, we both ordered a decaf cappuccino, and laughed as we realized we’d ordered the same thing. Trying to start conversation, I gestured towards the tray of food.

“So what are these?”

“Enchiladas. My sister made them, and they’re her specialty.” She gave me a smirk. “She made me bring them to you as thanks for... well... the whole thing at the club.” We settled into a somewhat awkward silence, sipping our coffees instead of speaking. After a while, she looked down at her watch and gasped.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I have to go.” She said, looking quite apologetic. I waved it off, not wanting her to be uncomfortable, but reluctant to be alone all the same.

“You’re sure you can’t stay?” I asked, a bit hopefully. She shook her head, and I slumped a little. “Alright. Wait- Here.” I said, draping my coat over her shivering shoulders. To my delight, she blushed scarlet.

“Oh! But- You- Cold- Really?” She stammered out. I smiled warmly at her, and said,

“I know the man who runs this place. I can probably get a ride.” I knew I wouldn’t, but she didn’t have to know that. I was trying to be gallantly nonchalant, but it ended up more along the lines of begging. Very smooth, Slim. I thought to myself. I was turning to go but I heard a small “Wait!” from behind me. The woman stood from the booth and tried to stand a bit taller, as I was dwarfing her by comparison.

“I don’t even know your name! And I’ll have to return this coat at some point.” She said, somewhat breathlessly.

“My name's Slim. And yours?” I asked, curious about her identity.

“Tamara.” She shifted from foot to foot, seeming nervous. Then, suddenly, she went on her tip toes and hooked her hands on my shoulders. Whispering in my ear, she said, “Thank you for saving me.” Quickly, she pecked my cheek and raced out of the shop. I stood there for a minute, smiling, then threw down the bill and a check and walked out into the cold.

----

Tamara

I could have smacked my self, but what was done was done. Honestly though, me? Blushing? It was an outrage. I hadn’t even spoken all that much with him, let alone slept with him, so what business did I have blushing at common courtesy? Although, I will say that was a lot nicer than the average person, and he didn’t have to go and do that...

If I was being honest, which I tried to be most often, I found him attractive. Not so much on the streets outside the club, but when he was inside the cozy coffee shop, color flooded his pale face and brought life to cold features. His nose and face shape were angular, but the lighting had softened them, making him seem approachable.

But, enough of that, onto more pressing matters... Or should I say depressing matters? My fathers funeral was looming over my head, and I could hardly plan it when I was crying every time I thought of the arrangements. I had offered to do it for Maria so she wouldn’t have to worry too much, but now I realized I wasn’t doing any better than her, and stress of it all was crushing me. Despite the wonderful way the evening had begun, it was rapidly declining, and bringing me down with it.