Silent No More(3)

I whip into the parking lot, pulling up to the valet. A young guy saunters over to my car door, opening it for me. Taking his hand, I swing my left leg out of my car, allowing him to pull me up. He’s stronger than he looks. He can’t be more than eighteen, but like any teenager his age, he gives me a once over with his pale blue eyes. Any other time this might make me smile or even laugh, but not today. Sliding around him, I mumble a thank you as he sinks into the driver’s seat of my car. He’s pulling away as I make my way inside.

I’m amazed every time I enter this place. Words don’t do justice to the grand entrance. It’s modern and sleek. I love everything about this hotel. The aroma is something I’ve never smelled elsewhere. It’s inviting and rich, yet warm. I walk up to the receptionist’s desk. The cutest blonde girl I’ve ever seen greets me. Maybe she is new. I don’t remember seeing her before; then again, I don’t usually check-in for a room when I come here. Her face is plastered with a wide smile. It’s not the fake smile I get by most people in the customer service industry. She genuinely looks happy to help me.

After checking in, I toss the key card into my purse, but don’t go up to my room; instead I head straight for the main hotel bar. This hotel has three bars and two restaurants. The main bar is called Quaint and it’s just that. It is charming, dark and quiet, just the place to drown my sorrows, a place to be alone.

Getting drunk has never been my idea of fun, and definitely not something I do regularly. Don’t get me wrong, I love a beer and a glass of wine or even the bubbly, but I hate that feeling of no control. In fact, I’ve only been drunk once in my life, right after I graduated college and I swore I’d never do it again.

Of course, when I made that vow, I never imagined I would have caught the two most important people in my life screwing...each other. God, I’ve given that fuck-face five damn years of my life. Why the hell would he do this to me…to us?

How could Ally, of all people, do this? We have…had been best friends since the first day of junior high, over fourteen years ago. We both decided to attend the same college so we wouldn’t be apart. We have always been inseparable. She’s like the sister I never had. Apparently, I’m the only one that felt that way.

Fucking bitch!

The bartender approaches me as I take a seat at one of the empty bar stools near the end of the bar on the right side. I go for a smile, but I know it doesn’t reach my eyes. I don’t know if I’ll ever smile again. Yeah, you could say I’m a bit depressed right now. If that is in fact what this empty, lonely, angry feeling is. I’m not clinical, so I can’t exactly go diagnosing myself.

“What’s it going to be, pretty lady?” His smile is warm and sincere. It matches his chocolate eyes and dark hair that is peppered with a bit of grey.

“Vodka tonic and NO questions, Sam,” I say, emphasizing “No” as I remove the small round diamond ring from my ring finger. I should have taken it off earlier. I twirl it around my fingers while I’m waiting on Sam to bring my drink over.

Cripple dick.

Surprisingly, I’m more hurt by my best friend than I am the man I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with. What does that say about our relationship?

Sam returns and I place the ring on the counter to take the drink from his hand. He eyes me with concern when he watches me lay the ring on the counter, but doesn’t say anything about it. He turns, walking to the other end of the bar to serve two men in business attire who have just sat down.

I’m not one of Sam’s regulars, per se, but we are on a first name basis with each other, and he always recognizes me when I stroll in. I pop in occasionally after work on Friday evenings. I like to have a glass of wine to relax before going home to get ready for a night out with my friends. Friday nights generally consist of Katelyn, Stacy, Ben, Kyle and myself. Luke and Ally always have to work. Plus, Stace has never gotten along with Luke so I try to keep them apart as often as possible.

I look at Sam at the other end of the bar as I take my first sip. The liquid doesn’t flow smoothly down my throat. It’s a bit tart, and normally I’d want to make a disgusted gag face and stick my tongue out, but I force it down anyway before taking a larger gulp. The larger the sips I swallow, the faster I’ll be done. The faster I’ll be done, the faster I’ll forget today ever happened.

I know Sam is probably wondering why I’m here on a Wednesday night, but I’m grateful he doesn’t question me. I’m in no mood for conversation. I just want to forget what I saw and vodka is the way to do that. I lift the lime wedge from the rim of my glass to suck the juices out before tossing it into the liquid.