"That's it, baby," he continues, his tone almost soothing, despite the filth spilling from his lips. "Take my cock. Take all of it."
Baby.
My belly flutters, my heart soaring like a fool even though I know it's a runaway utterance. A thoughtless spi...
It's always incredibly awkward when you unknowingly walk into a personal dispute, so I force myself to say something before things get a chance to become even weirder.
"Oh, hey, sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt," I begin, my eyes shifting to Rory's, but I can still see his counterpart's disbelieving expression from the corner of my eye, though she doesn't say anything. "We've got another snoozer tonight," I say, gesturing toward the bar's entrance, referring to the guy who's still passed out inside.
Rory simply nods. "Alright, I'm on it." He doesn't even turn back to his lady-friend or say anything else to her before storming back into the bar, as if she's a pest and he doesn't even want to acknowledge her presence.
She huffs incredulously, slowly shaking her head as she watches him walk away from her. She struggles to blink back tears, but a few escape despite her efforts, sliding down her face and leaving wet streaks against her pale skin. She sniffs a few times, wiping furiously at them.
She turns to me and looks at me apologetically, offering a nervous laugh.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean for you to see that," she says.
I shake my head, still feeling kind of awkward. "You don't have to apologize," I say. I take a few steps toward her. "Are you okay?" I really don't even know why I just asked her that. It's a stupid question. Of course I know she's not okay, but I'm not quite sure what else to say in a situation like this.
"Not really," she says with another laugh, and this one has undertones of sadness and perhaps just a hint of bitterness. "But I guess that doesn't matter. At least not to him."
I don't know this girl, and while a part of my heart breaks at seeing her this hurt and vulnerable, another, much bigger part of me also want to shake her and give her some serious tough love right now.
The younger version of me would have been much more empathetic toward her, and would have probably confronted Rory and asked him if he doesn't see how much he's hurting her, and more importantly, if he doesn't care that he is. But I'm not that naive anymore. I know better, and reality is a lot less cut and dry than I used to believe it was.
The truth is that there are no guarantees in life in general, but there are especially no guarantees when it comes to love. Just because you have feelings for someone, it doesn't mean that they're going to feel the same way about you, and it sure as hell doesn't mean that they're obligated to reciprocate any emotions you have toward them. It's a hard, extremely bitter pill to swallow, but it is reality, and the sooner she accepts that, the better off she'll be.
"Have you ever been in love before," she asks suddenly, bringing my attention back to her tear-streaked face.
I raise my brow, surprised by the question, but I answer honestly. "No."
She nods with a tight smile, wiping her eyes again as she does. "You're lucky, then," she says, her breathy voice drenched in sadness. "You might want to keep it that way...for your own sake."
I almost wish I could tell her that she's wrong and that she just needs to wait for the right guy to come along and he'll see her for the wonderful woman that she is. That he'll treat and cherish her the way she deserves to be, but I know that would be a large, steaming pile of lies and bullshit. So I just stay silent.
She gives me another forced, tight smile before she walks away, glancing once more at the bar entrance with the same solemn, desperate expression she had on while she spoke to Rory.
As I watch her walk away, I can't help but wonder if she'd still think I was lucky if she truly knew the depths and pits of my own current, crooked situation.
I'm willing to bet everything I have—however little that may be—that she'd take unrequited love with a single guy over whoring herself out to a married one any day of the week.
***
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