Craft Beer & Roses

Chapter 23

"Igavehimahandjobinthepoolandlefthimthere—" The words tumbled from Aviva's lips in one breathless amalgamation.

"You what!?" Saoirse, utterly gob-smacked, fell back in her seat. Aviva understood that very little could put the producer in such a state. She would've felt honored she'd been the one to initiate it if she weren't so embarrassed.

"I don't know! It just happened!" Aviva cried, punishing a pink cushion with a vice-like grip. "Do you know what it feels like to constantly get so close to something you want only to have it taken away at the last second? Whenever I think we're getting somewhere, he stops, or there's a challenge, or someone interrupts us. And then he has to go around with his stupid, beautiful face and his perfect fucking muscles and that annoyingly gorgeous smile." The pillow swelled from the pressure in her hands. In this rollercoaster of an experience, Aviva was fighting to maintain control where little was to be had. "God, he's been messing with my head, and I was just – I was so – frustrated! I wanted him to feel it."

The producer's eyes remained wide, mouth hanging open in disbelief.

Aviva loosened her hold on the pillow. "He probably thinks I'm a sadistic freak or something..." After a momentary pause, her face morphed into one of shock as the cushion fell to the floor. The weighty consequences of her actions were starting to settle on her shoulders, "Alfie...Oh my God, Saoirse, I'm a terrible person!"

Returning to the present, Saoirse blew a few ginger strands out of her face, clutching the tops of her thighs. "No, Aviva, you're not."

"But – but I cheated. I'm a cheater, Saoirse! I'm no better than Suresh!"

Saoirse snapped to attention. "Hey!" She wagged a reprimanding finger. "Don't you ever compare yourself to that dickhead again, you hear me?"

"But—"

"Ah!" Saoirse held her palm in front of Aviva's face, "You will not."

Aviva pinched her lips together, a solemn nod the only evidence of her half-hearted agreement.

"You already spoke to Alfie about the status of your relationship, so you shouldn't feel guilty. But I still have...so many questions." Saoirse peeled her glasses away from her face and tiredly rubbed her nose bridge, "I'll start with one, though – why is it so hard for you to just tell Finn how you feel?"

For all her many talents, Aviva had come to discover that she possessed a particular affinity for overcomplicating a situation. Telling Finn could potentially absolve her from the torturous limbo she'd landed herself in. But she had so many doubts. In herself. In him.

"I'm scared..." Aviva whispered, strained and quiet.

"Of what?"

"Pain? Heartbreak? Looking like an emotional cow on television, though I'm pretty sure I've done that already." Aviva slumped down, body caving forward, "I mean, what if he's just playing the game? What if it doesn't work out? I don't think I can handle it..."

"Aviva, why did you come on this show?" Saoirse asked.

Aviva thought briefly. "To move on from Suresh. And maybe make some money...?"

"Right. Okay, I'm going to throw something out there that you might not like, but hear me out first, alright?"

"...Alright..." Aviva said warily.

Saoirse linked her fingers together, resting them beneath her chin, "In the time I've known you so far, you've constantly talked about being afraid. About finding it hard to trust others. I know you want to move on from Suresh, but do you think that maybe one of the reasons why you can't seem to move forward is because you're still stuck in the past?"