Chapter 24
Ringo reached back and slapped George's knee. They hadn't even looked at each other, but George knew what to do. He snuggled closer to me, even securing an arm around my shoulders. My sobbing only became worse, and I guess he sensed that. Realizing that he was pulling away from me, I grabbed a hold of his shirt and dragged his body toward mine again. I couldn't think of doing anything bad with him, but I still insisted that he stay close to me. I was all alone in this world, with only George. And Ringo.
Finally, after thirty or so minutes of complete and awkward silence, Ringo stopped the car in front of a hotel. Cautiously, George brought his arm back to his side and unbuckled. I quietly slid out of the car, stretching my legs. Ringo's car was a bit cramped, really, so my legs now felt like rubber. I nearly fell on the pavement as soon as I stood on my feet, and Ringo caught me. His face was incredibly close to mine, but I shrugged it off. No matter how many times I had to remind myself, Paul was my husband and I would always remain faithful to him.
Unsure of what to do, I grabbed George and Ringo by the hand and sprinted toward the front doors, dragging them along with me. As usual, George was expressionless, and Ringo was giggling loudly. It had been quite a stressful day; we all deserved to have some fun and goof off! What was better than making my little buddy Ringo laugh? Plus, George was more of the cuddling type of guy, and we had cuddled several times. Sure, I missed Paul and John, but I still had these great guys to be with!
Well, apparently there was a bar in this hotel, and you all know how these boys are about drinking. Ringo offered to buy me a drink, but I declined. I didn't drink, nor did I want to. I had heard so many terrible things that have happened to people that get massively drunk. I was so young; I didn't want any of that to happen to me. But why was George drinking? We would probably be at our houses by tomorrow or the day after, and he had a child that needed love from his father! Seeing him getting hammered almost made me upset. Almost.
George and Ringo sat side-by-side on the bar stools, pointing and winking at some beautiful ladies. I rolled my eyes, hanging behind them. Honestly, I felt so out of place. Everyone here was definitely drunk, and here I was, completely sober. Some guys asked me to dance, but I flashed my wedding ring in their faces. They backed off for a little while, but they always came racing back. Sometimes, I just shrugged it off. Other times, though, I brought my fist back, threatening to break their nose, or do some sort of damage.
Suddenly, George spun around. His eyes were wide, and there was a smile plastered on his face. He slammed his hands down on my shoulders, making my knees nearly buckle underneath all of that weight. His eyebrows were raised, as were mine. For several minutes, he didn't say anything. He just stood there, all excited, staring into my eyes. I searched his face for answers, or at least clues, but he was so drunk that it was hard to tell. I snickered at him, getting this feeling that he was just messing with me. But he wasn't.
"You know what you should do?" he slurred, removing his hands from my shoulders and moving them down to my waist. At first, I thought it was romantic, but then he burped and ruined the moment. I backed away from him slowly, but he just kept moving closer to me, grinning like a mad man.
I put my hands on his chest, trying to push him away, but failing. Apparently, he took that the wrong way. He thought that I was trying to drag him closer to me, even though I wasn't. It would feel like having a sexual encounter with my brother, and that was just plain wrong. But he continued. "You should divorce Paulie," he hiccuped. "After you have this kid, divorce 'im. He doesn't deserve you. And I understand you. And I love you. Does he love you?"
I nodded. "Yes, he loves me very much, George."
He didn't look too convinced, but didn't press the subject anymore. Instead, he smashed his lips against mine. I tried, once again, to throw him off of me, but he was strong. I called for Ringo to come save me when I could get my mouth off of George's, but he was too busy making love to a woman. Yes, right in the middle of the dance floor. I cringed inwardly. Wasn't this actually like...rape? Maybe not quite, but I didn't like it. Not at all. I wish Paul was here..
"Hands. Off," a voice cried. It was a very familiar voice. Was that...
"Paul!" I sprinted into his arms, burying my face in his chest.
When I turned to spit in George's face, he wasn't there.
What was happening?!
