The man sat down next to the woman, not giving it a second thought. She didn't turn to look at him, the smell of aftershave and ink told her all she needed to know. The combination was oddly nice, and she relaxed as she exhaled slowly. The man smiled to himself, she reeked of Cointreau and Jack Daniels, yet she didn't look like she had taken a single sip of her drink.
"The atmosphere in here is quite lovely, wouldn't you say?" she spoke first, as always.
"It is rather captivating. Now what is it you're drinking, I think I'd like one," he said softly.
She shook her head and finally turned to look at him. "Believe me, I'm not drinking. My shift ended just ten minutes ago, spilled a lot earlier."
"Ah, so you work here? That must be amazing on summer nights," the bartender handed him a glass of their smoothest scotch and he took a small sip, not taking his eyes off the woman.
"Oh, it's incredible. You have no idea the stories I've heard. It's only part-time, though, a side job. I'm a florist during the day, bartender during the night," she extended her hand. "Erin."
"Oh, I'm Carter. Florist huh? You must really love flowers then. Tell me, do you have a favorite kind, one that just makes your day?"
Her face lit up at the question. "Well, I could never pick just one kind, but I've always had a weak spot for sunflowers."
"What a coincide, a girl I used to know said the same thing," he looked down at his lap at the braided golden ring on his finger.
She saw the ring too and smiled as a warm, comforting feeling consumed her. "Is it possible to skip the stages of grief?"
"I guess that depends on who you're mourning," he answered as if her question was totally normal.
"Well, I'm mourning myself. I skipped right over bargaining and depression and landed at acceptance. I'm actually doing fine, which is great. I used to think I was destructive, I guess I was in a way. But then realization hit me and I saw that sometimes things just aren't meant to be, they're meant to be destroyed in the most hurtful of ways... Enough about me. How long are you here?" she finally took a sip of her drink and savored it for as long as she could, taking note of how the flavor seemed to change every second.
The man did the same. "I'm only here for today, I met up with an old friend, but I'm going back to Italy first thing tomorrow. I miss my wife... and my daughter, my beautiful daughter. She reminds me of my sister in a way," he closed his eyes and smiled peacefully at the memory of his childhood.
"Enjoy the rest of your stay," she got up, buttoning her jacket as she did. "This was very nice. I hope your flight home will be pleasant. Oh, and don't forget to tell your daughter and wife how much they mean to you, Carter."
He grinned sheepishly at the woman. "I will, Erin."
She nodded and took in his appearance one last time before turning to leave, before saying goodbye.
"Oh, Erin! Thank you, for everything."
She smiled, only stopping briefly to signal that she had heard him. A moment later she walked out the door and the man went back to enjoying his drink.
With their heads held high, the cracks in their hearts now mended, and their smiles genuine, they, finally, after many years of pain and tears, thought;
I love him, a part of me always will...
I love her, a part of me always will...
But I love myself more,
I always will.
And we aren't meant to be,
And we never were.
Published 3/4-2019
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Sunflowers
YOU ARE READING
Coffee at 5 AM √
Teen Fiction"Wait," I put my hands on my hips and frown. "You woke me up to ask me this? Because you want to meet me every morning at five?" "Yes." "So you honestly expect me to throw away three hours of perfectly good sleep just to have coffee with you?" He r...
