Only you can save me (A Paul Walker fanfiction)

Chapter Eleven: Against all odds

I bounced through my week, practically skipping through my chores and jobs, counting the hours till the next Friday. I took extra care getting ready, choosing a killer dress and putting my hair up in an intricate hairdo that I felt showed off my face to its biggest advantage. I felt ridiculously excited when I entered the bar, practically throwing my coat at the employee in the cloakroom. He was here, he had to be right? And he was ... with another woman.

My insides suddenly felt glacial, my smile disappeared faster than ice in a desert and I was rooted to the spot. He was sitting at a table with a blonde, smiling and talking. I never was great at deciphering body language but the game of playing footsie the blonde had going on with his calf didn't need any translation. Great ... Now what? My enthousiasm had, obviously, evaporated completely. I really wanted to just turn on my heel and go back home, but I was here now, dolled up, one drink wasn't going to be too bad. I would just pretend he was NOT here (no I didn't think that would really work, of course not), have a drink, and go back home to nurse my bruised expectations. 

All too soon I discovered the fatal flaw in my plan: to do that, I would have to either sit at the bar next to his table (not an option) or walk past his table to get to one of the free tables in the back (not an option either, I didn't trust myself not to kick her in passing). After a few indecisive moments I went for door number two and started a brisk march across the room. Sadly, the floor wasn't meant for sneaking across. Not in high heels anyway. It was like a loud clack clack clack every time I made a step (it is entirely possible my anger made me stomp my feet harder than I intended) and a few people looked up to see me pass. Please don't look up, please don't look up ... please be engrossed in whatever blondie is saying ... 

I rarely ever am lucky with that line of thinking. Of course he looked, recognition and a smile dawning on his face simultaneously, and then he got up and stood in front of me. So much for  dignified. We said hi, how are you, nice to see you, the small talk near strangers make when they see eachother in passing. He said I looked nice so at least my efforts weren't a total waste, and I even smiled when I saw blondie shoot daggers at me with her eyes after he'd said it. 

But that was it ... nice to see you too. I took my place at my table mere minutes later, quite alone and quite unhappy. I considered getting completely drunk but I had to drive home so that wasn't an option either. I ordered a glass of wine (one wasn't too bad) and gave myself over to my ponderings. I loved him more than anything, loved him for years, yet I was a stranger to him. How did I bridge that gap? Was the gap even bridgeable? Was I just fooling myself thinking we had a chance? Would I have to watch him kiss blondie later? And what the heck was that wine made of, vinegar? Murphy had descended on my Friday it seemed. 

I decided it made no sense to stay any longer. I thought at that point there was no sense in trying. It was over, and that thought really really hurt. I had played my cards and lost. To a footsie playing blonde ... Or someone else later down the line. To avoid passing his table again I took the long route to go outside, taking extra care to walk softly this time. I got my coat again, and stepped outside in the cool air. I didn't want to go home yet, felt like I had some thinking to do before I could face possible inquisition about where I had been. I didn't know the area too well so I just sat on a low wall near a street lantern not far from the bar I just came out of. Across the street someone was obviously having a party, a birthday or a wedding, and I looked at the guests going in and out dressed in smart dresses and tuxedos. The music was blasting and someone left the door open so I was forced to listen to the end of the Rolling Stones, then an old slow song by the Platters (very eclectic taste) before they moved on to Phil Collins' "Against all odds"

I have loved Phil Collins ever since I was a little girl, but this one was a little on the nose at that moment. I wanted to leave because even the first notes of music made tears sting and I would not and could not just sit crying on the pavement. But as the soft music went on, I thought what the hell, and listened. And cried.