Sticks & Stones.

5

I sauntered into the bar, running a free hand through my recently trimmed hair. This wasn't the type of place I would frequent, but as the saying goes, there's always a first time for everything.

Warm orange lights emitted from the chandelier that captivated my attention almost immediately while neutral colored furniture complimented the marble flooring. Jazz played in the background but it was nearly overpowered by the sound of clinking glassware and soft chatters from the other sad patrons(I assumed they were all in my predicament. Why else would they be at a bar?)

I frowned whilst I thought about how clueless I looked right about now. Usually, in movies, people who came alone would sit by the counter-so I found my way to the vacant seat directly at the bar. The only alcoholic drink I've had were ones served during parties, gatherings or dinners-a mere glass of celebratory champagne. I noticed, in the sitcoms I'd binge, people in my predicament would opt for 'the strongest drink they have', like a scotch or shot of vodka or some shit. I came with that in mind but now I wasn't even sure what that meant and whether or not I wanted it.

My fingers twiddled with the strap of my bag as I anxiously pondered my 'predicament'. What would a pathetic househusband drink right about now? "Hey," I waved the bartender down. "Can I get a Manhattan? Straight up." I sighed. I noticed a funny look he flashed me as he heard my voice. I returned the offended expression. The look wasn't foreign. Sometimes I forgot that homophobia is still a thing, no matter the progress we've made.

I didn't acknowledge his obvious hesitation to fix the drink. I was too hung up on my failing marriage. I couldn't believe Mateo's harsh words. Me? Pathetic? From the moment we'd exchanged numbers at a restaurant(I was his waiter), I hadn't left his side. He was a mere boy, confused in every aspect of life-parenthood, love, sexuality, childhood trauma. Mateo hadn't known what peace felt like so I introduced him to it. From late night rendezvous while everyone slept to having rice thrown at us and later aiding in the birth of our first son-we'd come a long way. I loved him.

I sipped the drink, aimlessly scrolling through my social media. Overanalyzing everything I posted, I chastised myself-my old girlfriends were posting bottles of 1942 whilst they sunbathed on yachts and my timeline consisted of pictures of my children, and anniversary wishes to Mateo. I was boring. Maybe that's what lead Mateo to his new 'hoochies', as my girlfriend, Kiya would say.

To distract myself from Mateo's bullshit, I decided to call her.

"Hey boo!" Kiya cooed. Her upbeat mood brought a smile to my face. "What you up to? Calling like a lady of the night?" I chuckled, hearing little Adalyn crying in the background.

"Girl, nothing," I began with a sigh. If Kiya were here in person, I wouldn't hesitate to spill the beans on my recent drama but I wasn't too keen on over sharing through a little device.

"Don't sound like nothing."

"We need to schedule a date or something. We have a lot to catch up on." I said, disregarding her comment. I felt a little guilty about neglecting our friendship, especially considering Adalyn's birth a few weeks ago-I sent flowers and anything I thought would be helpful but I'm sure a friend is what matters the most to her right now. I shrugged off the shame. "I'll even come over. I've been dying to see the nursery in person."

"Of course." Kiya blurted. "I can't wait for you to meet my precious angel." Her surrogacy experience was rough but faith prevailed and my girl got her baby.

"Yes. I'm sure the pictures don't do her any justice-Nathaniel does have some genes on him." I joked, complimenting her husband.

"Oh please! This girl is nothing but me-he just added some secret sauce to the mix." The bartender passed me a dirty look after I let out my obnoxious cackle. I softly apologized. "Seriously though, I figured something was wrong. It's not like you to go ghost so if you need anyone to talk to, you know you have the spare key."