Walk Away

She sits alone at the bar, meticulously sliding her middle finger around the rim of the shot glass sitting in front of her. She seems oblivious to the wandering glances and hushed gossiping from virtually everyone who has noticed her presence, which in a club like this in a town like this, is everyone. After all she is who she is and even if she wasn’t alone at the bar, they would still be talking about her. They always do.

Sitting in a booth across the room, surrounded by friends and booze, he tries desperately to keep his eyes off the slouching figure at the bar. A figure he hasn’t seen in some time, mostly at his own request. He hears someone say her name at the booth beside him and he glances over to see some scantily clad blonde throw her head back and giggle before leaning into a brunette replica of herself and pointing to the bar. The newest flavor, he presumes. He gave up trying to keep track of the socialites and paparazzi princesses long ago. About the same time he gave up going to clubs like this. As he looks back at the object of their gossip, he wishes he would have continued that practice instead of letting his new associate convince him that he was too young to not enjoy a night out. It was never his age that really kept him away in the first place. As his eyes move back to the bar, he knows what did.

With one more circle around the shot glass, she picks it up and quickly sends the liquid burning down her lungs. She wishes that she could feel its effects immediately like she used to. Back when one drink caused her cheeks to grow hot and her head to spin. Maybe then she wouldn’t be raising her empty glass in the bartender’s direction anxiously awaiting one more dose of the medicine that will eventually ease her mind. Or at least she hopes will eventually ease her mind.

She doesn’t even look at him when he fills her glass again, not sure if she’s embarrassed to be to be drinking like she did when she was nineteen and loved the thrill of doing something illegal or, more likely, that she’s afraid that he might just look at her. Really look at her. It’s with that thought that she wonders why she even came her. To this place that she doesn’t even like in this town that she’s grown to hate. She guesses that part of her just likes the punishment. She’s had many dreams to die here. It seems appropriate to just add another.

As she sends her newest shot coursing through her veins, she feels something hit against her back and cold liquid slide down her arm. She barely moves as she looks at Hollywood’s newest tabloid whore throw her hand over her mouth in fake surprise and spout some version of I’m sorry through her ironic laughter. She knows better. Even she’s a better actress than that. But tonight, a fifteen minute starlet and a sticky right arm is the last of her worries so she just turns her attention back to the bar and raises her glass once again.

He watches the exchange from his VIP perch. Watching the childish display of purposeful menace as he nods at the unheard words of the girl sitting beside of him. He can’t but feel sorry for the woman whose name instantly brings forth forms of jealousy and hatred. Or sometimes, other emotions. But he is admittedly surprised when she gives only a half glace at her wishful rival and then turns back to her drink. He’s even more surprised though when he excuses himself from the table and starts to make his way to the bar. He already knows it’s a stupid mistake but its one he can’t keep himself from making.

He slides onto the stool beside her, well aware that she won’t look at him. If the half hour he’s been watching her is any indication, she didn’t come here for a fake photo op or for some wannabe actor hoping to get in the pants of a drunk superstar. The tips of her fingers rest against the glass in front of her as the bartender fills it up once again. The bartender looks at him briefly before nodding his head and walking away.

“Vodka.” His voice cracks. He can see her tense up but she makes no attempt to look at him. He knows she recognizes his voice. “I always thought you were a tequila girl.” Her breathing becomes heavier as she continues to stare at her glass and then begins to circle the rim again with her finger.

“Aren’t they all the same,” she says finally, “just a different taste of liquid amnesia.” Her eyes still do not move.

“I guess so.” He nods and then turns to look ahead. He can see her face now in the mirror behind the bar and realizes that this if the first time he’s truly seen her face in a long time. Granted, he’s seen it just about every week in some random tabloid or entertainment show. But not like this. Not in person.

He can’t help but notice how much older she looks though she’s really not old. How those little lines have formed around the edges of her eyes. How her skin isn’t quite so youthful and radiant. She looks so different . . . . yet so much the same. She’s still as beautiful as he always thought she was though he struggles with that thought in his mind. He gave up thinking she was beautiful long ago.

“What are you doing here, Wade?” Her gentle question breaks him from his oblivion and he quickly turns his attention back to her. Though she still hasn’t brought hers to him. He knows she’s just as surprised as he is that he’s sitting beside her right now.

He says the only thing he can think of, knowing that by here she doesn’t mean at this club but rather with her. “I don’t know.” And he watches as she nods, somehow understanding his confusion. He guesses she likely feels the same. She was always pretty good at understanding him even when no one else did.

She’s not sure if she likes him sitting beside of her. But for some reason, it feels somewhat comforting. Even with neither of them saying a word. Maybe it’s because she used to always feel safe with him. Used to. Whatever the reason, she makes no attempt to make him leave. She just lets him sit there, sipping at the drink in his hand, and watching her through the mirror.

The minutes pass as quickly as the shots. And as her head starts to lighten, so does her resolve. “So how did it feel,” she asks softly, “how did it feel when your marriage ended?” The question surprises her as much as it does him. After fifteen years without a word of contact, this is the question she asks.

He waits a few moments, unsure if he really wants to respond to her. It’s none of her business he tells himself but still, he can’t seem to tell her that. So he answers. “It hurt. It always hurts when it ends.”

She nods knowingly. “How did it end?”

He takes a deep breath and then pours a shot of vodka down his throat. He wipes his mouth as he throws the glass down on the counter. “It was mutual. We both realized we made a mistake. We loved each other, still do.”

“Just not enough to stay together.” She’s not questioning and he knows that. So he just nods.

She grows quiet again, pushing her newly poured glass of vodka away from her as she goes deep into thought. He knows something is wrong. He’s known it from the second he laid eyes on her when he walked in this club an hour ago. Fifteen years hasn’t changed that. Nor has it changed his need to want to protect her. And he hates that. He hates it that he’s worked so hard to make sure that her name elicited no emotion from him only to have one glance at her bring it all back. He may have been able to ignore it a little more while sitting across the club in some VIP booth but he can’t ignore it at all now that she’s beside him.

“So what’s wrong, Brit?” His words solicit a slight laugh from her but still no eye contact.

“Are you asking that to be cordial and silently hope that I say nothing is wrong or do you really want to know? It’s been fifteen years, Wade. You aren’t my savior anymore. You’re not even my friend anymore. You have no obligation to listen to my problems. I don’t expect you to.”

He feels a slight sting from her words but nods in understanding. She’s giving him a way out. A way to walk away like before. But he doesn’t.

Instead he throws his hands up. “If you’re willing to talk, I’m willing to listen. The floor is yours.”

Through the mirror, he watches as her eyes fall. She waits, trying to find the words in her head. Words she’s not sure exist. When she finds none, she says the only thing she can.

“What do you do.” She hesitates. “What do you do when the person you think you are going to spend the rest of your life with comes home and tells you that he doesn’t know if he loves you anymore?” The words startle him but it doesn’t compare to how startled he is when she finally turns her head to bring her eyes to his for the first time, he sees how incredibly broken they are.

A tear slips down her cheek and he fights the urge to reach over and wipe it away. Even with all they’ve been through, he can’t handle seeing her cry. Nor can he handle seeing her like this. He knows the last time he saw her like this but he immediately pushes that thought from his head.

“Brit . . .” Still, he finds no words.

She shakes her head. “I mean, how do you tell your children that their daddy no longer loves their mommy and doesn’t want to be with her anymore?”

“Did he say that?”

“He didn’t have to.” She lowers her head. “I may be naïve but I’m not stupid. Of course, it was pretty easy when he also admitted that he had an affair. Or better yet, another affair. I was pretty stupid back when I found out about the first one but he swore it would never happen again. We went to counseling and all seemed so great. Then the bomb three days ago.”

He looks at her curiously. “So why the drinking today?”

“Because today I called her.” She brings her glazed eyes to his and forces a fake smile. “Today I called the girl that was supposed to be a one night stand four months ago. And she tells me that she met him in a bar. That he was without his wedding band. He told her that we had split up but just hadn’t announced it to keep the paparazzi away.” She turns away from him again. “They talked and he got her number. Two days later, he called her, went and got a bottle of tequila and a box of condoms and met her in a parking lot where he fucked her. Two days after that, he called her again and fucked her again. He’s been talking to and fucking her ever since. Three weeks ago, on Sean’s birthday, he got a phone call during Sean’s party and said he it was his producer and he had to go to the studio right then. He actually went to see her. So even when he tells me he doesn’t know if he loves me, he still doesn’t have the balls to tell me the truth and tell me he’s still fucking this other girl.”

She leans forward, resting her head in her left hand and looking at him. “I took a hammer to my wedding ring, kicked him out of the house and changed the locks. I just wish that hammers and locks could change the way I feel.”

He can feel his chest tighten. He’s unsure how digest her words. Hearing her pain hurts him on levels he has long since buried. Fifteen years ago, there was part of him that somewhat delighted in her pain. Back when he thought he was a pawn in one of her games. Or at least he told himself he did. But now . . . now he’s not sure.

“You deserve better, Brit. I think you are well aware of that. This man has cared nothing about you or your kids for years. Even I have seen that.” And oddly enough, he means those words.

For some reason, he expects her to reject his claims. She doesn’t. Instead, she just moves her eyes to the counter and begins to tap her finger.

“I love him. I’m not sure why. I’m not even sure how. But I do. And just like every man I’ve ever loved, I have no fucking idea how to keep him.” The drink she previously pushed away is pulled back into her hand and she swallows it quickly. When she begins to speak, her words begin to slur. “I’ve loved three men. Three. Of all the men I’ve dated or fucked in my lifetime, I’ve only loved three. And all three have walked away in one form or another.”

“Brit, you and Justin . . .”

She shakes her head, laughing loudly. “Believe it or not, Wade, not everything in my life goes back to Justin. Me and Justin were in love. I couldn’t keep him. Do I regret losing him? No. Hell, I am 100% the reason I lost him.” She places her head in her hands as she leans onto the bar. “You know, you should really just go. Go back to your world where you could care less about me. It will be easier for us both that way. Because to be honest with you Wade, right now you are the last person I need to see.”

He glances back to the VIP booth he occupied long ago and sees his friends laughing and drinking. He knows he should want to be there.

“Just go.” Her voice is soft now. So soft that it feels like its breaking him. He hates it when she does this to him. When she elicits emotions from him that he hates to feel. At least toward her. He hated it back then. He hates it even more now.

But still, he can’t fathom leaving her when she’s like this. The world walked out on her years ago, himself included. He can’t bring himself to do it tonight. So he just hangs his head and whispers. “I’m not going anywhere. You don’t need to be alone.”

She shakes her head and then brings her broken and blood shot eyes to him. “But I don’t need to be with you. Wade, I gave you your out fifteen years ago. I let you break free from the mess I had made of your life. I gave you that choice, to stay with me or to walk away. And you chose to walk away.”

Her words slice at him and he opens his mouth to protest but she immediately raises her hand to stop him.

“It’s ok. I understand. You were the home wrecker. I slept with you when I was in love with Justin and what was happening afterward was destroying your life. You didn’t deserve that because it was my fault. You lost your best friend because of me. Hell, you lost a good part of your career because of me. You would have lost even more . . . . You know really what Kevin is doing to me is what I did to Justin . . . . and to you. I guess the only difference is that I have a ring on my finger now.” She traces the rim of her glass once again. “What I’m trying to say is that I understand why you walked away. I have a tendency to do that. To make people walk away.”

She unexpectedly lets her eyes catch his. He looks at her, struggling to read the emotions etched across her face. But as she realizes what he is doing, she pulls away. “Your friends are waiting for you. I’m going to call a cab and go home and get some sleep. I’m sure I will be fine in the morning.”

He has no time to protest before she picks up her belongings and begins to stagger toward the door. But he doesn’t move. He simply watches her move away until she is no longer in his sight. All the while, her words continue to ring through his head. And then finally, he understands. He understands it all.

She drapes her arm around a pole to steady herself as she waits for her ride. She’s now suddenly well aware of the stares and gossip going on all around her. Britney, the train wreck. Appropriate headline she thinks. Her eyes move to her left hand, to the small indention where her wedding band used to be. She can only imagine how the media is going to rip her to shreds when they find out about this.

“It was me.” She jumps at his words, stumbling a bit between the surprise and the abundance of alcohol in her system. He grabs her arm to steady her, pulling her against him in the process. “It was me, wasn’t it? I was the third person you loved who walked away.”

His heart is beating fast against her chest and she feels tears begin to sting the edges of her eyes. She fights to keep them back. This isn’t what she wanted. This isn’t why she’s here.

“You never told me.” His ragged voice tears even at his own heart. All this time, all these years, he never knew. And now, its tearing him apart.

“Would it have mattered?” She’s still against him as she brings her eyes to his. “Even if you thought I didn’t love you, you still didn’t want to fight for me. You still couldn’t handle all that came with me. You had every opportunity to do so after it ended with Justin. But you had a choice. And you didn’t choose me.”

Her words break him more than anything he’s ever experienced in his life. More than the day he looked her in the eyes and told her he couldn’t be with her anymore because he thought it was what was best for her. More than the day he found out she was marrying Kevin. Even more than the day he heard Amanda tell him she didn’t love him the way she should and he decided to leave the marriage. No amount of pain compares to what he is feeling now. To find out that a woman he didn’t think was capable of loving him had loved him all along. And he feels powerless against it.

He’s still shocked as she steadies herself and pulls back from him. She plasters a fake smile and tilts her head ever slightly to the side. “It’s ok. It’s over. I’ve got Kevin and my kids to worry about now.”

He can feel his own eyes start to glaze over as he struggles to look at her. “What are you going to do, Brit?”

She takes a deep breath. “I’m going to start over again. And every night I’m going to pray that when I wake up the next morning, I won’t love him anymore. Just like I did when you walked away.” Her words bring his eyes back to hers. “And one day I will. One day, I will wake up and I won’t love him anymore. It may be tomorrow or ten years from now. But I will.”

A cab pulls up beside of her and he watches as she steps back and reaches for the door handle. Her eyes, however, never leave his.

“And who knows, maybe one of these days, I’ll actually wake up and not love you anymore either.” A tear slips down her cheek but she makes no attempt to stop it. “It’s funny, all of these years everyone has believed that it’s Justin that I can’t get over. The media, you, Kevin. Everybody. Every fight I’ve ever had with Kevin has stemmed from him believing I was still in love with Justin. He even validates his cheating by it. But it’s you. It’s always been you. And you didn’t even see it. I just hope to God that one day I won’t love you anymore. Maybe then I can actually have someone love me and not walk away from me.”

His words are caught in his throat, words he wants desperately to say. Words he’s been waiting too long to say and now its too late. So he just watches as she walks away from him just like he did to her long ago.

Without a word.

He’s loved two people in his life. Both have walked away.

Now he understands. Just a little too late.