No Love Attached

chapter one : alcohol heals all

| No Love Attached |
chapter one : alcohol heals all

•••

   Whoever said time heals all was a liar. Time doesn't heal loss. Not my loss, anyway. I used to think that you never really lost anyone. That no matter what, they'd always be with you every step of the way.

   I wish I could say that was still a belief of mine. But that was before. Before I realized time is not infinite. Before I was completely and utterly alone. Before he was gone. Ripped out of my pale hands and taken from the world. And for what?

Well, that's something I'll never accept an answer to.

•••

Six months.

Six long months to uproot my life and live in England to open up a new branch of my publishing firm. What should have been excitement, quickly turned into dread. I didn't want to be away from friends and family for that long.

But the small voice in the back of my head knew that was just an excuse. This wasn't my dream. Not alone, at least. It was ours. And yet, here I am, almost three years later accomplishing it all by myself.

My feelings towards it seemed to have made a complete one-eighty turn since last night, though. Yes, I still felt emotional, knowing someone should have been at my side during all of this. But the dread was gone. Vanished into the cold New York City air along with most hopes and dreams.

On the way to airport, I passed through endless city blocks and tried not to think about what this cab smelled like. While sitting in traffic, I gazed out the window to see a familiar brick building. The usual red neon "bar" sign was off. My eyes lingered outside on the spot I was standing just last night with a man I didn't know at all.

A man that made me feels things in a mere fifteen minutes that I haven't felt in three years.

Those blue-ish green eyes feasting on me as if I was his next meal, his chiseled jaw covered with scruffy stubble, even his ridiculous comments all fogged my mind. The thought of his hot minty breath so close to my face, sent shivers down my spine. And maybe somewhere else.

But the stoplight then turned green. I shook off any of these strange feelings about a man I couldn't stand in the few minutes I was in his presence. The bar drifted further and further into hindsight. As did the rest of the city.

My cab driver kept looking at my from his rear-view mirror. So to avoid any more weird eye-contact, I emerged myself into my phone and finally took the time to read all of Penney's texts. Constant texts.

"So, how was it?"

"Isn't Leo hot as hell?"

"Please tell me you guys had crazy animal sex..."

"You better be in his bed right now and that's why you aren't replying."

"Vera! Are you alive? Do I need to file missing persons report again? Because after last time, there's no way their going to let me file another one unless this is real and you've been kidnapped."

"I'm sorry. Was this too soon? If I forced Leo on you before you were ready, I am so sorry. Ugh, I'm so stupid and overbearing. Don't hate me."

"Please at least tell me how it went before you get on the plane."

Yep, that was Penney Abrams for you. I immediately started to type a reply to her, choosing my words very carefully. I was never going to live this blind date down.

"Hey! Yes, I am alive! No need to bother the NYPD for no reason...again. I was just doing some last minute packing! As for the date, it really wasn't a date. More like a 'hi/bye' kind of thing. Kind of hard to explain, but I'll tell you everything in person when you get to the hotel tomorrow." I sent.

I don't even think I had enough time to fully blink before she replied with her lightning thumbs.

"What are you talking about? Damon just got off the phone with Leo. He said it was the first non-boring date he's ever been on."

I felt a little bit of blood rush to my cheeks. What was he talking about? Who would consider it a date? I showed up, insulted him, and left.

   I certainly am not calling it a date. I couldn't.

    Before I had a chance to text her back and ask to elaborate, the drivers raspy voice coated in a thick New York accent filled the dead air of the taxi. "That'll be fifty-two dollars." He said with his gloved hand outstretched.

     I threw him the money with a rather large tip. He was the last New York encounter I was going to have for half of a year. I felt generous despite his constant staring at me.

      After getting through the bitch that is airport security, I wandered into one of those airport convenience marts.

Doritos? Yep.

Chocolate bar? Oh yeah. Why not three?

Mini shooter of whiskey? Fuck yes.

Bullshit magazine to read? Sure -- what the hell? Oh my god. My eyes locked on Forbes Magazine.

You have got to be kidding me.

   There he was in a fitted navy suit, eyes burning through the page. He was on the cover in a pose that looked like it came quite naturally to him. And in big white letters, the headline read, "The Bachelor Who Owns New York : Leo Wells".

   "Get away from me." I spoke to the magazine, because that's what normal people do. I couldn't look at it anymore without an overwhelming feeling of guilt. So, I flipped it over and continued paying for my whiskey, Doritos, and chocolate. My three favorite things.

    "Are you sure you don't want that magazine?" The young blonde cashier asked.

    "Yes, I'm pretty fucking sure." I muttered to myself.

My heart felt as if it had been ripped from my chest and put back in sideways. My fiancée died and I went on a fucking blind date with a man who has the term "bachelor" used to describe him on a magazine cover.

     So I did what any normal thirty-year old woman would do on her flight first-class to London...

Got drunk as fuck, cried into a large bag of Doritos, and ignored the atrocious amount of calories that were in those three chocolate bars.

Whoever said "time heals all" was a fucking liar. It doesn't. But they clearly never tried alcohol. Now, that shit works.

•••

Author's Note:
Hi! I hope you enjoyed. Thank you for reading.  I'm sorry if it was a little boring. Please vote and comment. It'd mean the world to me.
x.