“You got it,” she says with a smile before walking away.
From my place at the table, I stare down at my whiskey and Coke, slowly wiping the condensation from the side with the back of my finger.
How the hell did I get here? I was supposed to be celebrating with a new fiancée tonight. Instead I’m nursing a broken heart over what’s surely going to end up being too much booze. What signs did I miss?
Two nights ago, she spent the night at my place and gave no indication that it would be the last time she did so. If she was subtly telling me that she was about to break things off, I clearly missed it. Now I’m glad she and I didn’t have sex. I also understand why the too tired excuse was used.
I pull out a couple of peanuts and crack the shells, dropping them in the empty bowl and the peanuts into my mouth. I crunch away and crack a few more.
My phone buzzes in my pocket and I know exactly who it is without even looking. My sister. She knew I was going to propose tonight and I’m sure she’s wondering why I haven’t been sending her pictures of Stacia proudly displaying the ring I gave her. Or, tried to give her.
That’s one thing to be grateful for, I guess. I didn’t lose my grandmother’s ring. Holy shit, my mother would roll over in her grave, slap my dad from his grave next to hers to make sure he was aware of what happened, then rail into me for a month if I’d have given our family heirloom to a woman who wasn’t deserving of it.
But how did I miss that Stacia wasn’t the one? I thought she was happy and we were on the same path.
“I’m sorry, Nikolas. I just… can’t.”
I rise from my knee and stand before her, ring tucked securely in my pocket. I never did take it out. She never got a look at it.
“What do you mean, you can’t?” I know my voice sounds incredulous. I’m shocked, though.
“Exactly that. I can’t marry you. I thought you knew I never wanted to be married.”
“What? Of course you do! We’ve talked about it.”
“No. You’ve talked about it. I listened. I never once agreed.”
This time, my voice is low when I ask, “Okay, then, why didn’t you say that you didn’t want that when I was talking about getting married?”
She shrugs.
Shrugs.
That’s it.
“I can’t believe you. All this time we’ve been together you never mentioned not wanting to be married.”
“But did I ever say I wanted to?”
I want to scream in frustration. I feel like I’m arguing with a teenager right now and rather than continue, I spin on my heel and storm back to my pickup, leaving her standing in her place. When I climb behind the wheel, I slam the door on her calling out my name, wondering how she’s going to get home. I should feel guilty. But I don’t.
Hell, it’s not as if we live in the dark ages or even the 80s, for fuck’s sakes. She’s able to use her phone and call someone to get her home.
Right now, I need a drink.
Well, at least I got what I needed, even if I didn’t get what I wanted tonight.
The more I think about it, though, her reaction to my proposal gives me peace. I’m thankful she said no. Well, mostly. Of course, I’m upset. I wouldn’t have asked her if I didn’t want her to say yes, but obviously my instincts weren’t working correctly.
I take another drink of my whiskey and Coke and crunch on a chunk of ice and sit back, craning my neck so I can watch the TV in the corner. Surprisingly, it’s not a game, but rather a show I have just recently started watching about these guys who hunt for ghosts. Even with it being a show that I genuinely enjoy, it doesn’t hold my interest.
My mind is reeling, trying to figure out where it all went wrong for me today. When my phone rings again, I lift it to my ear, wanting to get it over with. I figured we’d be spending the holidays together with my ring on her finger. Proposing over Thanksgiving weekend was supposed to be the perfect timing.
“She said no,” I tell Josie. Silence greets me on the other end and I look at the screen to make sure the call is still connected. “Josie?”
“I’m here. What’d you say?”
“You heard me the first time and I’m not really in the mood to say it again.”
“I don’t understand.”
“That makes two of us.”
“She really said no? Are you sure you did it right?”
I take a deep breath and roll my eyes. “How would I have done it wrong, Jose? I was on one knee, asked her to marry me, she looked right at me and said no.”
“But… she loves you.”
I grunt. “Apparently not. Or at least not enough.”
“She’s wrong.”
I sigh and lean back in my seat, throwing back another big swig of my whiskey and Coke. “Pretty sure she knew what she was doing when she turned me down. Said she’d never wanted to get married or have kids. Said that since that’s what I wanted, it was time to move on because she didn’t think it was fair to me.”
“You mean, it’s not fair to her to be saddled with a family guy,” she grouses.
“Right,” I grunt. “It’s not like I wanted to keep her barefoot and pregnant or anything like that. I wanted to marry her.”
Josie’s quiet for a few moments before asking quietly, “But can you honestly say that you would have been okay with not having children? Or being married to someone who didn’t want the same?” I open my mouth to respond but she isn’t waiting for it. “As much as I hate to admit it, she was probably right in declining your proposal. I hate that you’re hurting, but would have hated it even more if you’d have been stuck in an unhappy marriage.”
I sigh, knowing she’s right but cranky about it. “Yeah.”
“You know I’m right,” she answers softly.
“Doesn’t mean I’m happy about it.”
“Well, duh. Of course not. But here’s the deal, I think in the end you’ll see this as a good thing.”
“You called me excited thinking that I was engaged to the girl and now you think it’s a good thing?”
“Well… maybe I’m seeing the good parts of it quicker than you.”
I grunt. “Clearly.”
“Niko, listen to me. It hurts and that’s okay. It should. I know, you love Stacia and felt like she was the one but I want you to imagine your life in five years and tell me what you see. I mean, sure you can be together for life without being married. People do it all the time. When that’s what they both want. But, I feel like there’s a difference between wanting to be married to someone and wanting to make it official just hoping that it means they’ll stick around forever. You’ll be worried for life that she’ll leave or cheat or something because she doesn’t actually feel like you’re tied together. If you can honestly say that you would be okay with the life that Stacia wants, then hang up with me and go back to her.”
I sit quietly for a moment then grumble, “Sometimes I hate how logical you are.”
“Right?” I have no doubt that she’s shimmying in her seat right now, pleased that she’s set me straight.
Scrubbing a hand over my face, I drain the last of my whiskey and Coke. My waitress stops with my wings and places them in front of me.