Of Love & Regret
Authors: S. H. Kolee
Of Love & Regret
by S.H. Kolee
Copyright © 2013 S.H. Kolee
All Rights Reserved.
This book may not be reproduced,
scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission
from the author.
The characters and events
portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living
or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Cover design by Suzie O’Connell
Chapter
One
“Crap,” I muttered
as I futilely clicked my mouse with mounting aggravation as I faced the gray
screen of death on my Mac. I was on a tight deadline for my column and this was
the last thing I needed. As understanding as my boss was, I doubted he would
accept the excuse of a crappy old laptop as a reason for not handing in my
article on time.
I sighed in resignation
and held down the power button to restart my computer, praying that the
auto-save function had actually done its job. While I waited for my laptop to
reboot, I got up from the desk and refreshed my cup of coffee in the kitchen. I
wandered over to the window and stared out at the dreary sky that cast a gray
light over my neighborhood of Lincoln Park. It was a rainy day, which wasn’t
unusual for Chicago in early April. There was nothing I hated more than cold,
rainy days. For the thousandth time, I reminded myself how lucky I was to be
able to work from home so that I didn’t have to deal with pesky things like a
commute and inclement weather. Landing a job four years ago at
The Monitor Reports
—an online
magazine that dealt with everything from foreign news to local chili
cook-offs—had been a boon. I never tired of seeing
by Madison Bailey
on the byline, and I usually loved the process of
working on my weekly column, but my mind was wandering today. I was finding it
hard to concentrate and the latest hiccup with my less than state-of-the-art
computer wasn’t helping matters.
As I watched the
raindrops fall, I noticed a woman crossing the street with her purse over her
head, woefully trying to shield herself from the downpour. I clucked my tongue
in sympathy when suddenly my breath caught. I squinted, trying to get a better
look at the woman. Her blonde hair was drenched and plastered against the sides
of her face, but I caught a clear shot of her profile. My heart started
thudding against my ribcage, my mind rebelling at the instant recognition. My
pulse thrummed erratically as I watched her with bated breath. Time seemed to
move in slow motion as she started to turn her head in my direction. My stomach
clenched in a mixture of anticipation and dread until I finally saw her face.
The tension slowly dissipated, and I took a deep breath as a mixture of relief
and disappointment coursed through me. I was suddenly aware of the rain hitting
against the windowpane again, and everything shifted back into real-time. I
momentarily closed my eyes to pull myself together. When I opened them again,
the woman was scurrying down the sidewalk, and although I knew she was a
stranger, I watched her until she was out of sight.
My attention
returned to my computer when I heard the beep signaling that it had restarted.
I walked back to my desk, pushing the woman out of my thoughts. I was relieved
when I saw that auto-save had indeed saved my ass, and I concentrated on
finishing my article about the statistics of gun ownership and its reflection
on the current attitude towards owning firearms. Jameson, my boss, was pretty
open-minded and usually let me write about whatever I wanted, not minding that
my columns fluctuated from serious to frivolous. I enjoyed writing on both ends
of the spectrum, since life wasn’t solely one or the other.
Two hours later, I
breathed a sigh of relief as I finished re-reading my column for the last time
and emailed it to Jameson. It was late Friday afternoon and the weekend had now
officially started for me. I had plans with my boyfriend, Adam, later tonight,
but I had a few hours to kill before then.
I turned on the
television, but was quickly bored by the banality of daytime programming and
picked up my phone, flicking through my emails. I switched over to my texts and
typed out a quick message.
What are you doing? I’m bored.
While I waited for
a response, I absentmindedly watched a daytime talk show where a woman was
ranting about her cheating boyfriend who had apparently fathered four children with
four other women. I grabbed my phone when it beeped and Logan Delaney’s named
popped up with an incoming text.
Working. That’s what you should be doing.
Still stuck on your article?
Logan was one of
my closest friends, and we had gotten into the habit of texting each other our
daily happenings. I had already told him about my writer’s block earlier in the
week.
Me:
Done and sent! Now I’m lazing about watching
a trashy talk show. Jealous?
Logan:
Extremely. I’m not complete without a dose
of baby daddies and DNA tests every day. Are you hanging out with Adam tonight?
Me:
Yeah, I think we’re going out to dinner. Are
you going out with Ella?
Logan:
Nah, I don’t want her getting any ideas.
She’ll interpret a Friday night date as a proposal of commitment.
Me:
You’re such a pig. I’ll call you tomorrow.
Logan:
Have fun. I hope Adam lets you supersize
your meal tonight.
I rolled my eyes
at his last comment, but couldn’t suppress a laugh as I put my phone down. I
found myself thinking about Logan’s relationship with Ella as I half-heartedly
paid attention to the television. They had been going out for a few months, but
he was adamant that they were just casually dating. Ella, however, was ready to
tack the label of boyfriend on Logan as soon as he was willing. He and I had
been friends during college, but had lost touch afterwards. We had reconnected
three years ago when he had moved to Chicago and looked me up. We had been
friendly the first couple of years, but this past year, we had grown even
closer. My best friend, Emily, was doubtful about our strictly platonic
relationship, but that was all Logan and I were: just friends.
Besides, Adam and
I had been together for three years. At one point, I had believed I was in love
with him, but I had started to doubt that in the past six months. Lately, I was
noticing his obnoxious behavior more and more, and I found myself trying to put
some distance between us. Emily was convinced the end was near, but the thought
of having to put myself out there and start dating again was daunting. I was
hoping that Adam would just stop being so annoying.
As if on cue, my
phone rang and a picture of Adam’s face filled the screen of my phone.
“Hi, Adam.”
“Hey, babe. Wanna
do dinner at your place?”
I frowned. I knew
what that meant. He wanted me to cook. Adam had never been the type to shower
me with fancy meals and expensive gifts, but lately he had become even cheaper.
Hence Logan’s comment about supersizing a meal at McDonald’s. Adam came from a
wealthy family, and I knew they supported him, even though he hated to admit
it. He had a “fight the establishment” sort of attitude, but not when it
interfered with paying for his weekly yoga sessions and his expensive monthly
juice cleanses. Yeah, he was really starting to get on my nerves.
“Not really,” I
answered. “I’ve been stuck inside all day. I want to go out somewhere and
interact with people, like a normal human being.”
Adam sighed
heavily. “Alright, but let’s stay low key. Do you want to go to Cornucopia?”
“Sure, that’s
fine.”
Cornucopia was a
vegan restaurant, but I didn’t mind since the food there was actually pretty
good. Adam had recently become a vegan, but I had a sneaking suspicion that he
still ate meat when no one was looking. The empty package of bacon I had found
in his trash the other day was pretty damning evidence. I had been tempted to
expose him, but instead I kept my mouth shut and just added it to the list of
things that I found irritating about him. The list seemed to be growing
quickly.
I hung up the
phone after we made plans for Adam to swing by my apartment before dinner. As I
watched the woman on the television start screaming at a cowering man for
cheating on her, I told myself for the hundredth time that I needed to do
something about our relationship. The easy answer was to end it, but after
three years, I was comfortable with him, and the thought of rocking the boat
was tiring. Adam was a companion when I needed one, an automatic date on New
Year’s Eve, and someone to scratch the itch when I was feeling horny. I knew
that was a sad description of a relationship, but I wasn’t sure I wanted more
than that at this point in my life.
I was showered and
dressed by the time Adam showed up to my apartment. I gave him a quick kiss as
I let him in. Despite his less appealing traits, I still found him handsome in
a hipster sort of way. He was lean with longish, dark brown hair that
constantly got in the way of his smoldering brown eyes. We had met at a mutual friend’s
party, and the first word that had come to mind when I saw him was
intense.
He was a writer as well, but
although he spoke a lot about the book he was working on, I had never seen his
manuscript. He claimed that he didn’t want anyone to see it until it was
finished.
“You look
beautiful,” he said, giving me an appreciative glance.
I immediately felt
bad for my negative thoughts about him, because there was still a lot of good
about him. He was always complimentary about my appearance, whether I was
wearing jeans and a t-shirt or dressed to the nines. I could call him upset at
two o’clock in the morning and he would rush over immediately to console me. He
sometimes left me little notes around my apartment telling me how much he cared
about me and how amazing I was. He made me feel good about myself, and that counted
for a lot.
“You look pretty
cute yourself,” I said, taking in his jeans and black shirt. I led him to the
living room couch, snuggling into him as he put his arm around my shoulders.
“What did you do today?”
“I got some
writing done and then I went over to Sam’s for a little bit.” Sam was one of
his close friends that Adam often mentioned but whom I had never met. “What
about you?”
“I finally
finished my article and sent it to Jameson with barely a minute to spare. I’ve
been having trouble with it all week, and it’s a relief that it’s finally
done.”
“I’m sure it’s
brilliant,” Adam said as he bent his head to give me a kiss. I tilted my head
back and felt the familiar warmth as his lips caressed mine. My doubts about
him dissipated as he deepened the kiss. This felt comfortable and right, and I
told myself I would try harder in our relationship. Maybe pushing him away was
part of the problem. I needed to recommit myself to Adam and not let nagging
doubts get in the way of something good.
We kissed for a
few moments, but I was distracted by a gnawing hunger in my stomach since I had
eaten an early lunch. I broke our embrace with an apologetic smile. “Can we
postpone our make-out session until after dinner?” I joked. “I’m starving.”
“No problem,” he
said easily as he got up and took my hand, pulling me to my feet. “Let’s go
eat.”
Cornucopia was
only a few blocks from my apartment, so we walked. I was grateful that it had
stopped raining, though there was still a chill in the air.
The restaurant was
bustling, but we were fortunate to get a table right away. After the waitress
took our order, I leaned back in my seat and sighed contentedly. It was warm
inside the cozy restaurant, and there was a comfort and ease in being with
Adam. He reached across the table and took my hand, lightly grazing my thumb
with his.
“What are you
thinking about?” he asked.
“Just that I’m
happy to be here with you,” I answered with a smile. “It’s been a while since
I’ve seen you.”
“Sorry about that.
I’ve been so immersed in my manuscript these past couple of weeks that I’ve
barely been able to remember to eat, let alone function like a good boyfriend.”
“It’s okay.” I could
hardly tell him that it had been a relief to have some time apart. I didn’t
understand how it was possible to be so conflicted. In one moment, I was happy
and content to be in Adam’s company. In the next moment, the last thing I
wanted to do was hang out with him. “How’s the writing going?”
“Good, although
I’ve hit a bit of a writer’s block. I can’t get seem to get my thoughts in
order.”
“So, when I do get
to see your great masterpiece?” I teased. “You’re so secretive about it. I
don’t even know what it’s about.”
Adam frowned, not
seeming to find humor in my comment. “Madison, you know I don’t want anyone to
see it until I’m done. I thought you respected that.”
My smiled
disappeared, and I found myself suppressing my annoyance. “I was just kidding.
I know you don’t want anyone to see it until you’re finished. I can’t help
being a little curious, though.”
I would never
voice it out loud, but I had to admit that a part of me was doubtful about how
seriously Adam was working on his book. He had been working on it when I first
met him, and three years later, he was still working on it. I didn’t begrudge
him his privacy, and I could certainly understand not wanting to share an
unfinished work, but it irked me that he wouldn’t even tell me what it was
about.
Adam gave me an
ingratiating smile. “I’m sorry. I know you just want to know more about my
book. I promise you’ll be the first person I show it to when I’m done.”
I returned the
smile, feeling a little guilty that I had pushed him about it. I should be more
understanding and respect his creative process instead of wanting to satisfy my
own curiosity.
I changed the
subject, not wanting to bicker. “Are you busy this weekend? I thought we could
do something fun tomorrow and get out of our rut. All we ever seem to do is
hang out at my apartment or come here to eat. Maybe we can go to the aquarium
or to the zoo.”
“Sorry,” Adam said
with an apologetic look. “I told Sam I would hang out with him tomorrow, and I
need to work on my manuscript for the rest of the weekend.”
