Whiskey Latte

January, 2017

January, 2017

It sucks we didn't get to welcome the New Year together. One of the best and most important new additions to my life, you know you made my year. Miss you, baby, can't wait to kiss you again. Happy New Year! lots of love xo

Remi stifled a snort of laughter so as not to spit out his breakfast. "You've got the kid wrapped around your little toe, you hoe."

Ingrid rolled her eyes. "He thinks we're dating or something."

"Well, aren't you?"

"If we were, you wouldn't be here."

Remi licked the grease from his lips and forked up more bacon. "So you can actually be faithful?"

"If I commit."

"Right. Do you have the slightest idea what commitment even means?"

"Do you?"

"You insult me."

"I beg your pardon."

"Pardon granted." Remi chuckled. "I really need to meet the fella who gets you to commit. I mean, you couldn't even commit to a dog, for fuck's sake. Whatever happened to that puppy of yours, anyway?"

"Which one?"

Remi gave her his best don't-fuck-with-me look. "The dog, not the human, you bitch."

Ingrid wiped her plate clean with a piece of bread and stuffed it in her mouth. "I found someone at work who could take her in. A colleague with kids. They send me pictures every now and then. Apparently, her name is Sissie now and she's doing well enough."

"What, like Princess fucking Sissi or something?" the barkeep cackled.

"She was an empress, mind you," Ingrid corrected him, "but no. It's like a shorter, even more affectionate version of Lassie." A shrug. "Kids."

Remi picked at the rest of his breakfast in silence, but it didn't sit well with him for long.

"So...," he ventured, "has there ever been anyone?"

"Hm?" Ingrid swallowed her mouthful of juice.

"Anyone you ever committed to, I mean."

She took a moment to consider. "Sort of. A couple of times."

His eyes widened. "A couple? Damn!"

"The first one happened long ago."

"Tell me about it," Remi grinned.

She sat back in her chair.

"His name was Filip. My childhood bestie." A reluctant smile. "His mother was my German teacher and his dad was the village doctor. They lived next door and they were pretty much the only reason why I ended up getting a decent education, rather than..."

"Shovelling horseshit for a living?" Remi offered.

She nodded half a chuckle, however uneasy. "Yeah. Filip and I started going to school together, even though I was a year younger. Then we both moved to the city to attend the same elite high-school and, well..." Ingrid cleared her throat. "We dated throughout. He was my first boyfriend."

Remi whooped and whistled. "How come you've never told me that before?"

Ingrid raised one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. "Now that I think about it, it was probably the only time I actually committed and stayed faithful. Because the second time, well...," she trailed off, as if the memory escaped her, and shook her head, unable to reach it. "The whole thing was such a fucking expensive charade."

"You're talking about New York?"

Ingrid looked up in his eyes. Remi was one of the few people who knew. They'd met when he was bartending in the Big Apple and they had left together for Berlin.

"Yeah, I'm talking about New York."

"You know it wasn't your fault."

"I never thought it was." She washed the bread down with half a glass of orange juice and wiped the stray drops that had trickled down her chin. "We were talking about commitment, what does guilt have to do with anything?"

"More often than not, the two are connected." He stood up, gathering the dishes. "But it's no wonder guilt is such a foreign feeling to you, since you actively avoid commitment."

Ingrid pushed back in her chair. "Can we please not have this conversation? It's making me really uncomfortable."

"Too late, baby, we already had it." He put the plates in the sink and let warm water run over them. "You can go roll yourself a joint now, you've earned it."

Ingrid scurried out of her own kitchen and went to sit on the balcony, sans joint. The cold January air bit into her skin and she was thankful to taste sobriety.

She had to let Dale go before she dragged him under. Before it became too late for him to learn what commitment and devotion really were. Before she had to grapple with the guilt that she had snuffed his shot at a normal and healthy relationship.

He deserved better. He could do better, if he would just look beyond her. She had to make him see.