Ex-Husband's Regret

C 28 Drowning My Pain

My phone rings for the hundredth time today. Letty's name flashes across the screen, but like all those other times, I ignore her calls. She’s been trying to reach me since yesterday.

I’m not in the right frame of mind to talk to her. She’s still connected to the world and the people I desperately want to stay away from, leaving me at a crossroads.

“Give me another,” I tell the bartender as my phone finally stops ringing.

Today is my birthday, and this is how I’m celebrating: alone in a bar, sipping on some fruity concoction, still reeling from Rowan’s vile words.

I’ve tried so hard to push those thoughts away, to forget every single word he threw at me, but it’s impossible. They’re imprinted in my mind like a damn tattoo.

We’ve been married for years, yet it never crossed my mind that he saw me as nothing more than a substitute for Emma in bed. My heart shatters over and over again since that day at my house.

I shouldn’t be surprised that he chose to believe every word Emma said, but I am. It’s typical of him to trust everyone except the woman he’s lived with for nine years.

Whoever said words hurt more than punches was right. This time, I fear Rowan might have broken me beyond repair.

“Here,” the cute bartender says, placing a drink in front of me.

He looks at me with sympathy, probably recognizing that I’m here to drown my sorrows. He must have seen this kind of scene a thousand times.

I take the drink from him, avoiding his eyes. I don’t need his pity. What I need is a new brain, a heart that isn’t tainted by pain, and a soul unmarked by Rowan’s cruelty.

If I had known this was the future awaiting me years ago, I would have run for the hills. If I had known that loving Rowan would destroy me like this, I would have fled to another continent—hell, another planet—just to escape him.

I wish I could smack some sense into my younger self. Maybe then I could have avoided all this heartache.

Sipping my drink, I stare into nothingness. My mind is lost. I’m not drunk yet, but I can feel the buzz starting. That’s what I want; I need a break from the constant pain. Drinking myself into oblivion is my only reprieve, even if it’s just for a few hours.

I down the rest of my drink and glance at the dance floor. People are dancing, and I haven’t danced in ages. I want to let loose—after all, today is my birthday.

Getting up, I move to the floor. I close my eyes and let the music take over. I start to move to the beat, feeling my problems begin to fade. In this moment, I can pretend that I’m okay, that I’m not a broken vessel. Here, I can pretend that I’m whole.

I dance song after song, chasing a numbness that feels elusive. I feel people come up behind me, and I still don’t open my eyes, even when I’m grinding against them.

Some men try to coax me away, but I decline, ignoring them until they eventually give up and leave.

When fatigue seeps into my bones, I stop, open my eyes, and head back to the bar. I sit down on a barstool and order another drink, just as my phone rings again.

I’m about to ignore it, thinking it’s Letty, but instead, I see Ethan’s name flashing.

I decide to answer the call.

“Hi, Ethan,” I frown, surprised at how high-pitched my voice sounds.

“Where are you, Ava? Are you okay? Letty woke me up, completely out of her mind with worry, saying she hasn’t been able to reach you since yesterday,” he says, concern lacing his voice.

I want to ask how she got his number, but then I remember I gave it to her. She insisted on having it the first day I went out with Ethan, just in case she didn’t hear from me.

“I’m okay; I just don’t want to talk to her right now,” I say, my voice louder than I intended.

The music isn’t too loud, but it’s loud enough.

“Are you at a club or something?” he asks, just as someone screams that the song playing is their favorite.

“Sort of.”

“Are you drunk?”

“Just tipsy,” I reply, though I plan to drink myself to oblivion tonight.

“Do you have a designated driver?”

I giggle at that. His cop persona is coming out, and I like that he’s concerned about how I’ll get home.

“No, but I plan to take a taxi,” I answer.

“No, you won’t. Give me ten minutes,” he says before hanging up.

I frown at my phone, wondering why he said that. Deciding it’s not important, I push it to the back of my mind. Today is all about forgetting and letting myself go.

I don’t know how long it’s been when I feel someone slide into the seat next to mine. I look up, surprised to see Ethan’s blue eyes staring at me.

“Ethan, how are you here?” I ask, confused.

“I told you I’d be here in ten minutes when we talked. Don’t you remember?” he replies.

I continue to stare at him, still unable to process how he found me.

“I remember; I just didn’t take you seriously.”

He studies me, and I study him back. I like him, but I don’t want to see him right now. Tonight is for drowning my pain.

“What are you doing here, Ava? I never pegged you as the type to be out drinking at this time, especially not on a school night. Aren’t you going to work tomorrow?” he frowns, worry etched on his face.

I’m not going to work tomorrow. After what happened with Rowan, I don’t feel like myself. I’ve asked the school board for an extension of my temporary leave, and they’ve been understanding—especially after I lied and said I wasn’t fully recovered yet.

“It’s my birthday; I just wanted to celebrate,” I tell him instead.

By now, the music has stopped, so I don’t have to shout.

“All alone? In a bar, at almost two in the morning?”

How do I tell him I have no one to celebrate my birthday with? That no one remembers the day I was born? Even when I was married to Rowan, he would forget and ignore my birthday each year. How do I explain that my family hates me so much they stopped celebrating my birthdays nine years ago?

I shrug. “There’s no one to celebrate with. I would have celebrated with Noah, but as you know, he isn’t here. The rest of my family hates me so much they don’t care if I turned a year older.”

He looks shocked for a moment before recovering. He gets down from his barstool and helps me down, silently taking my hand and leading me to a private booth. He helps me sit, then sits right next to me.

He turns to face me. “Why do you say that? I know something happened with your family; it’s written all over your face.” He pauses, then continues, “Does it have something to do with Rowan? I see the pain you’re trying to hide. Why do you say your family hates you?”

I stare at him. If I want to build a relationship with Ethan, I have to come clean. What I did could ruin my image in his eyes, but he needs to know the truth.

I take a deep breath. “It’s because when I was eighteen, I slept with Emma’s boyfriend and ended up pregnant.”

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**Evelyn M.M.**

Author

Please don’t kill me. Ava’s past will be revealed in the next chapter. Bye.