Papers for Roses

Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Megan

"Hello, ma'am, have you decided on what you'd like to order?" Her eyes reluctantly peered up to the worried stare of the waitress.

She had been thinking about the birthday party that was going to happen that night. Isabella and Autumn did their very best to convince her to come, but she just couldn't. She was entirely not in the mood to deal with Bryan—his undivided attention, his words that were uncalled for and his considerate invitations. Not today.

She was sure that her friends were already getting ready for the party and she couldn't help but feel some slight envy. God did she want to play dress-up tonight, too, just not for that said event.

Megan lived for the glamorous dresses, the wild atmosphere and the delicious drinks that came with those festivities. Not to flaunt the money, but rather to dance, mingle and listen to good music, orchestral or recorded ones.

"Y-Yeah, of course." She quickly scanned the menu at the counter. "I'd love a cup of cappuccino and chocolate mousse, please."

The teenage girl nodded and walked quietly towards the kitchen. She expertly, yet thoroughly, brewed the coffee beans and put it into a white mug. She, then, poured a thick layer of steamed milk on top of the boiling beverage.

The song of the rain and thunder, spluttering across the glassed-wall of the fancy coffee shop, dispersed through the soft chatters inside. The scene was awfully opposed to the rough noises at the nightclub she'd gone last week.

The waitress returned and placed the cup of coffee and a slice of chocolate mousse before her. She mumbled thanks, then sipped on the hot espresso, licking the sweet milk residue on the bow of her lips afterward.

"Megan?"

Like a crash of lightning, a deep voice suddenly rushed into her ears, making her heart beat out of its normal pace.

Thick, tanned arms that were larger than the size of her rather slender legs, laid limply on both sides of his sizable muscular frame. She didn't look up or speak. She only stared at the number twenty-one in front of his white jersey. He repeated her name, and the single word never sounded so out of place as it escaped his lips as it did that moment.

The mug froze in her hands, as she marveled the sweet bitterness flowing smoothly through her throat. She couldn't understand it, but even when she realized that he no longer held much significance in her life at all, the void feeling was still there.

The memories they'd make, the emotions he made her feel, the success and failure they accomplished together. Gone.

"Megan?"

This time, she met his unwavering gaze. They were the same deep-set of green that enticed her years ago. It was so gorgeous back then. Amazingly so. But that was back then. Now, it only fueled the resentment growing at the bottom of her guts.

"Hi," she said, giving him a tight smile.

Aaron returned it but it quickly turned into a frown. Whatever battle he had in mind, Megan could see the reluctance that swam in his eyes. After several moments, "Can I take a seat?" he finally said.

He stared into her own soft blue eyes, seeming to expect her to say no. She took a deep breath. "Sure, I'll be leaving anyway."

"But you haven't touched your food."

Megan wanted to roll her eyes. Still the same Aaron. When they were together, Aaron was always an easy man to figure out, but he was also a man who had a hard time figuring something out. That was one of the reasons why she'd stayed. She could guess in an instant if he was lying, which he never did, until that brunette. It was safe.

She looked down at her uneaten food after he took his seat. "I haven't."

Aaron's face softened a bit. Her heart clenched. Suddenly, she felt like throwing up. "Look, I want to talk to you."

"W-What? Why?" Her horror was utterly clear in her voice. She wouldn't be surprised if her face was all ugly and twisted right now. He wanted to talk to her. She didn't want that. They already did all the talking seven months ago. And all this talking did, was stabbing each other with words they both never thought they would say to each other. They were all mean, painful, humiliating... and she could remember how it felt all too well. Like her heart was thrown all the way across the football field, only to fall hard on the solid ground, with no one to catch it.

Aaron bit his lower lip. Good, he's nervous. He looked at his joined hands on top of the table, "I want some closure."

Her spine straightened as she placed the mug on the table, ignoring how he noticed her hands trembled. "I can't take it anymore, Megan. It makes me feel guilty to see the hatred on your face every time we cross paths. I want us—"

"What are you expecting, Aaron?" she spat. "That I'd smile at you as if we are friends, as if nothing ever happened? No shit, but seven months aren't enough to forgive what you did. You threw away a four-year relationship for a single fuck, and now you expect a closure?"

"Megan, I—"

She held up a hand. "No, you don't talk while I'm not yet finished—"

"It's not—"

"Aaron, let me tell you something." She glowered, arching a perfectly filled brow. "If you are not happy in a relationship, you don't cheat. You fucking end it. It doesn't matter how uncensored it is. It doesn't matter if you tell her bluntly that you are fucking done, that she's not as beautiful in your eyes anymore. What's important is, you told her directly. Not with cheating, not with coldness, you go fucking tell her."

"I wasn't cheating. I never did—"

"And that's not the only thing that you did, sweetheart. It was a hundred times worse than cheating alone," she inhaled, ignoring the lump stuck in her throat. "You fucking told your own quarterback to drive me to my surprise birthday party, only when I get there and turn on the lights to see you and Trent naked, with a brunette only wearing pasties?! How fucked up is that." She threw a hand in the air, as her voice finally quivered. "It's a very unforgettable birthday present. And I believe that I didn't give you any right to talk to me right now, let alone ask a fucking closure. You live with your guilt, I don't fucking care."

And she stood up, threw a twenty-dollar, and walked away.

x.x.x

Tears. Chocolates. A box of Kleenex. And alone.

Those are what Megan's life was composed of right now. Alone in her dark apartment, with only the fifty-five inch TV screen lighting up the small living room. There was a comedy show being televised but she couldn't bring herself to pay attention to it. All she was seeing was Aaron stroking his junk in front of that tanned brunette—who looked as if he was giving her the key to life. She was all smile with teeth, and he was smiling back lazily. Trent, his football teammate, only stood by the corner, amused. The gasps and muffled murmurs from their friends in the background resounded in her ears as if she was standing too close.

Megan screamed in frustration. She bit a mouthful of chocolate, chewing it vigorously, as a new set of tears threatened to escape. A lump began filling her throat, making it hard to swallow. Sobbing, she forced herself to push the food down. Her lips quivering uncontrollably.

She never ever guessed why. Aaron never told her why. When they talked, they only yelled nonsense at each other but they didn't hear anything, as if they were speaking gibberish. He cursed her. He called her names. He humiliated her. But he never told her why.

Fuck it.

She was done. She didn't need her friends to tell her that she needed a drink right now. She needed to be somewhere noisy that she couldn't hear her own thoughts anymore. Somewhere so dark that she couldn't see her past playing before her eyes.

In short, maybe going to Bryan's birthday party wasn't a bad idea after all.

She would just hope that she'd blend in the crowd enough that neither Bryan nor her friends would see her.

x on a roll. will release two more chapters today. x