He took a sip of his beer. “More or less, but that’s just something I do on the side.”
“Oh, really?” I raised my eyebrows and gave him a playful look. “What’s your real job then?”
“I’m a professional poker player.”
“Poker?” I swallowed hard, my voice becoming quiet.
“Yeah. You know. Poker… It’s a card game. Placing bets… Going all in…”
Those last words hit me, making it feel as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. This conversation was yet another reminder that moving on wasn’t in the cards for me. The sounds of the bar grew muddled and became background noise as I was whisked back to that day.
“I’m a broken man.” Tyler leaned his forehead on mine and lovingly caressed my face as we sat in the front seat of my Mercedes, the March sun beating down on us.
“Everyone’s broken in one way or another, Tyler.”
“Not like me. Some days, I feel like I’m barely hanging on. But I haven’t since I met you. For the past six years, all I’ve felt is pain. I know this sounds crazy but, whenever I’m with you, I find meaning in that pain.” He held my face in his hands, but I remained speechless, his impassioned words overwhelming me.
“So whatever this is and whatever it’s going to be, know that I’m all in, Mackenzie. You have enchanted my heart and, for the first time in years, I feel alive, even when I’m not with you. I know we just met and I’ll be the first to admit I wasn’t expecting to be so captivated by you.” He took a deep breath. “But I am. I am unimaginably bewitched by you. I’m all in, Mackenzie.”
The memory was so vivid, so sharp, as if it was happening at that moment. I remembered precisely what he was wearing…a yellow polo shirt and jeans that fit him perfectly. His green eyes were brilliant but scared. What I didn’t see as I relived this memory was a lack of sincerity. It covered him, from the way his fiery gaze burned into me to the way he caressed my skin. Even early on, I could sense he didn’t say those words just to get information. They were true. I couldn’t help but think about what else was true.
“Mackenzie,” Ellis’ voice cut through, bringing me out of my memory. “Where did you go?”
“Sorry. I was just thinking about something.” I grabbed a towel and began to wipe down the counter. “I need to get back to work. Enjoy your beer, Ellis.”
I heard him call my name as I rushed from behind the bar, through the busy restaurant, and up to my office, struggling to breathe. Even after all the times I had tried to convince myself, I knew I wasn’t over Tyler Burnham. I doubted whether I ever would be.
~~~~~~~~~~
THAT NIGHT, I TOSSED and turned for hours, a thousand thoughts running through my head. I had kept my true feelings buried for months, forbidden from communicating what was going through my mind to the one person who needed to know. I had let it all fester, but it wasn’t until I met another man who seemed to be interested in me that I realized how messed up I still was. I was desperate for closure, to finally tell him what I was feeling…even if it fell on deaf ears.
Rummaging through my bag, I grabbed my laptop and booted it up. I typed in the email address I had for Tyler and hovered over the keyboard for what seemed like an eternity, my hands shaking at the prospect of him reading this. I needed him to know how much his lies hurt me. I needed him to feel my pain. I couldn’t shoulder it all on my own anymore.
The words I had thought on a daily basis for the past several months filtered from my head to the laptop, the visualization of weeks of pent up feelings therapeutic and soothing the fire within.
I don’t even know where to begin. I don’t know what to think. I don’t know what to do.
Worse, I don’t know who I am.
Maybe I never did.
It’s past three o’clock in the morning and I can’t sleep. I’m exhausted, run down.
Heartbroken.
The fact you lied to me isn’t what hurts now. I’ve stopped feeling the pain from that. It’s knowing no one can replace you. It’s knowing I’ll search for someone else to give my heart to for the rest of my life and never find him.
It’s knowing lightning doesn’t strike the same place twice.
It’s knowing you’re my turtledove.
It’s knowing I’m through.
I met a guy tonight. An attractive, charming man. He made me smile. He made me laugh. He made me forget about everything for a minute.
But I felt nothing…because of you.
I felt no butterflies.
I felt no spark.
I felt no lightning strike.
Because. Of. You.
It’s been nearly four months.
One hundred and ten days, to be exact.
When I first met you, I had a feeling you would be the one person who could break down my walls. I knew you’d be the one to make me feel, something no one has been able to do for years. But I also knew you’d be the one to ruin me. You told me as much. I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t want to think something so evil, so hurtful, so ugly could come out of something I thought was so fucking beautiful.
And that was my love.
I loved you, Tyler. Unconditionally. Completely. Wholeheartedly.
But you deceived me. Because of that, I should be over you. Since you’ve been gone, I’ve done everything I could to convince myself I don’t care about you. That I’m over you. That I hate you. That I despise everything about you.
I should, ya know.
I should hate the way you looked in your tuxedo the night you asked me to marry you.
I should hate the way my name used to roll off your tongue and make me shiver.
I should hate the way you used to snore.
I should hate the way you used to smile at me unlike the way you smiled at anyone else.
I should hate the way you used to wrap your arms around me and make me feel like I finally had a home.
I should hate the way you used to make me laugh.
I should hate the way you used to make me feel alive.
You did everything right. You said exactly what I needed to hear when I needed to hear it. You made me fall in love with you. You took my love from me, and I’ll never be able to get it back. I’ll never be able to give anyone else all my love. I’ll never be able to experience that unmistakable feeling of absolute euphoria just from being around them. For that, I should forget about you.
The truth is, no matter how much I say I’m over you, you’re still on my mind.
The truth is, despite it all, I don’t hate you.
The truth is, despite it all, you made me feel, and I’d rather have felt something so fucking intense for you than to never have that memory at all.