Past Lovers

Past Lovers. 5

Despite the neon lights, the city felt dark. The light in my life was no longer with me. 

I told myself over and over again that Jared seemed like a good guy. It was the only thing I could really do to keep my anger under control. I guess at this point I had no legitimate reason to be angry, but when have emotions ever been rational? My anger was not directed towards Hayden or Jared, but simply at myself. 

Why was I such an idiot? Why did I have to go and sleep with her best friend? 

But when I thought of her, in my arms again, my frustration began to melt away. It felt like the good, old days like nothing had changed. Just like that summer, when we were seventeen, and it was all still ahead of us. 

When I turned in for bed, my mind filled with wonder. Neither my brain nor my eyes could come to an agreement. Sleep was out of the question at this point. It usually was. In the past, I would have slumbered myself to sleep with a cold glass of brandy. In the past, alcohol would have been the only solution to ease a guilty conscious. No, not tonight. I was done with that. 

I kicked myself out of bed and sat at my cluttered desk. Pulling out my phone book, I flipped through the pages, searching for one particular name. 

"Hullo?" A groggy voice answered after I dialed the number.

"Hi, Penelope?"

There was a crackling pause. "Who's asking?" She sneered with her thick, Brooklyn accent.

"It's Chase . . . Chase Levine."

 "Well, I'll be damned . . ." she muttered, unaware of the fact that I could still hear her. "I haven't heard from you since . . ."

"Since the divorce, yeah, it's been a while," I swallowed hard, "so, how have you been?"

She sounded hesitant. "Good . . . good, how have you?"

"Pretty decent," I shrugged, only considering the last few weeks. 

We both paused, briefly, unsure of how to proceed.

"Chase . . . why did you call, eh? After all this time?"

"I don't know, Penelope . . . I just . . ." I shuddered.

Why did I call? At the time, it seemed like a good idea. Now, it only looked like trouble.

"Chase, you shouldn't have called," she lowered her raspy voice. 

"Damn right, I shouldn't have, but I did," I raged, frustrated. "You know, I just can't do right, can I? I'm trying so damn hard. I don't know, in my head, I thought, maybe it was time to make things right, try to undo all of my wrongs, or at least make up for them. But I guess not, I guess it's just impossible for me to do anything right."

When I was done with my rant and still catching my breath, I heard Penelope sigh. "Cool it, would you?" She continued, softly, letting the shrill of her voice echo through the phone line. "I know what it's like . . . wanting to fix things and all. But what's done is done, you can't change the past. You can only control the present and future. Stop trying so hard to rewrite your history, and focus on what's going on right now."

Penelope always knew what to say. She had a talent that all writers cherished and many writers lacked; a way with words. In fact, she was my go-to writing advisor when I was working on Love Always. But she did not always use her sweet-talking tongue for the greater good. She talked me into it . . . talked me into sleeping with her. I cannot point the blame on her entirely, for it was my fault, but I have spent many nights wondering if things would be different between Hayden and me if she hadn't. 

"Have you spoken to her?" 

"Not since . . ." her voice trailed off. She paused. "Have you?"

My first urge was to shake my head, just because I was caught up in my memories. But then I remembered. "Actually I have."

"Oh?" I heard the undeniable surprised tone in her distant voice.

"Kind of a chance meeting," I mumbled, wanting to explain it all but afraid of getting carried away. 

"Well, good, I'm happy for you," she cooed, scrounging up every bit of fake enthusiasm that she could. 

"Thanks," I muttered. "You should . . . call her, or something. She seems to be better now, more forgiving."

"Don't take this personally, but I think you're the last person I should take advice from . . ." she snapped. Penelope, similar to myself, easily flew off the handle. She was overly sensitive as well. "I'm happy for you, but don't fuck everything up again. She may not be my best friend anymore, but I still care about her. It was nice talking to you, but I've got to go, okay? I wish you the best."

One click and she was gone. But I wasn't sorry to see her go like I was to see Hayden go. In fact, I got just what I needed. 

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sorry for the long awaited update, but it's finally here. i'm thinking, the next time the one-night affair is mentioned, i'll switch to a flash back. hows that?! feedback pleaseee!