Chapter 61

CHAPTER 61

SPENCER

W ell, that stung more than I expected it to.

As soon as Marlow left my office, my insides tried to eat me alive with guilt. My mind was a whirlwind of regret and self-loathing.

I hurt her, even though she was the best thing that ever happened to me. She deserved better.

The weight of those thoughts crushed me. I couldn't stay in the office any longer. I needed air, space, anything to escape the mess I had created.

I stood up, the chair scraping noisily across the floor. The sound echoed around my empty office. I ran a hand through my hair, feeling as if my heart was being squeezed in a vise. I grabbed my coat and shoved my phone and keys into the pocket.

Just as I opened the door, Janet appeared. I nearly rolled right over her. "You're leaving?" she asked with surprise.

"Yes."

"But you have a call," she muttered.

"I'm heading out."

"Uh, I, well, will you be back?"

I thought about it for a second. "No."

When she looked like she was going to protest, I gave her a hard look, quieting any dissent. She stepped out of the way and let me walk by. I needed to put as much distance as possible between myself and the scene of my latest failure.

I was halfway to the elevator when Graham and Jax caught up with me. "What the hell is going on?" Graham asked.

"Where are you going?" Jax asked.

"Out," I muttered.

I pushed the button for the elevator.

"Seems to me like he's running," Graham said.

"If I make a woman cry, I try to get out of Dodge as well," Jax quipped.

I shot him a dirty look. "I'm in no mood."

Graham shook his head. "No, you're definitely in a mood."

They must have seen Marlow leave in tears. Now I really looked and felt like a dick. "Leave me alone," I growled.

When the elevator opened, I stepped inside, assuming I would get away from them. Unfortunately, they followed me. I tried to keep them at arm's length, but they were relentless.

"Guys, honestly, I need to be alone," I said.

"That's the last thing you need," Graham said.

The elevator opened in the lobby. I stepped out and they were right at my side.

"I messed up," I admitted, my voice hollow. "I hurt her."

They exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of sympathy and frustration. "What did you do this time?" Jax asked.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "I pushed her away. I let my insecurities get the best of me, and I took it out on her."

I saw the looks of disappointment in their eyes. I wasn't surprised. I felt the same way. I was disappointed in myself.

"Where are you going now?" Graham asked. "Are you going to apologize?"

"No," I said. "I did her a favor. She deserves better, and it will be easier for her to move on if she hates me."

"What the hell does that mean?" Graham sighed.

"You're just going to let her go?" Jax asked with a shake of his head. "You're not even going to try and apologize or make things right?"

"Nope, I'm going to get drunk."

"That's stupid," Graham said.

"Yep, but I'm still going to do it."

"Come on, Spencer, it's the middle of the day," Graham protested.

"I don't care. It's five o'clock somewhere."

I walked away. They followed me, their presence both comforting and annoying. I didn't want to talk about it anymore. I just wanted to drown my sorrows in alcohol.

"Leave me alone, please," I said, walking down the sidewalk in search of a watering hole. I didn't care if it was a hole in the wall or a fancy lounge. I just needed a drink or ten.

I continued walking, desperate to put some distance between Marlow and me. I could still feel her disappointment. I could feel their eyes on me, full of concern and debating whether to leave me alone or follow me into whatever dank abyss I was heading.

At the end of the street, a bar came into view. "I'm going in, guys," I said. "Go back to the office. I don't need your company. I have no desire to talk. I just want to drink myself numb."

"And you know that's not going to happen," Jax said, slapping me on the back.

I should be grateful for their companionship, but I was afraid I would only do something to push them away too. I was in a bad way. I knew I would lash out. It was a bad habit.

I pulled open the door and stepped inside. The bar was dimly lit, the perfect setting for wallowing in self-pity. We quickly found a table. The place was virtually empty given the hour of the day.

"What can I get for you guys?" an older woman who looked bored and uninterested said.

"Whatever is on tap and a shot of tequila for me," I said.

"Club soda for me," Graham said.

"I'll just have a soda," Jax replied.

Their orders irritated her. She turned on her heel and walked away. Jax looked around. "How come we've never been in here?" he asked aloud.

"Because it's a dump," Graham responded, taking in the stained carpets and worn furniture.

I grunted in agreement, leaning my head back against the wall of the booth. The waitress returned and slid our drinks to us without a word before disappearing. I watched her go before turning my attention to my shot.

"I still don't understand why you want to get drunk," Jax said, taking a sip of his soda.

"Because it's easier than dealing," I said flatly before downing my shot. The liquor burned a trail down my throat and into my empty stomach. I welcomed the discomfort, a distraction from the gnawing guilt and pain festering within my heart.

"Spencer," Graham began, leaning across the table to look me in the eyes. "You're pushing away not only the woman you love but also your friends who care about you."

I ignored him, gesturing instead to the bartender for another round. She eyed me warily before reaching for a bottle.

"You know, Marlow is amazing," Jax said after a while, breaking the silence. "You're an idiot for letting her go."

I glared at him, but he didn't back down. "I know," I muttered.

The beer and shot were delivered without a word. I downed the shot and took a few deep gulps of the beer.

They kept talking, trying to reason with me, but I wasn't in the mood to listen. The more they talked, the more I drank, trying to numb the pain that was gnawing at my heart. But no matter how much I drank, the guilt and regret wouldn't go away.

"What happened specifically?" Graham asked.

The alcohol was loosening me up a little. "Did you see the article?" I asked.

They looked at each other, which told me they had seen it.

"What about it?" Jax asked.

"I'm a steppingstone," I said. "I'm a means to an end."

"That's not what I read," Graham said. "She seemed enthusiastic about the job."

"And she wishes she could be married again," I muttered.

"You're reading into this way too much." Jax shook his head. "She was lamenting the choices she was given. She wanted to be successful, and because Dakota wouldn't give her the room to grow, she had to walk away from her marriage."

"Isadora thought it was brave." Graham shrugged.

"Why do you have a problem with it?" Jax asked.

"Because she's motivated," I said, putting my hand up to get the surly server's attention. I made a circling motion, indicating I wanted another round. At least I hoped that was what she saw.

"Do you know what she sees?" Graham asked.

"I'm hoping she sees I want another beer," I replied.

"Not her, Marlow," he replied with exasperation. "She sees insecurity. At least if I was her, that's what I would see."

"Fuck you," I grumbled. "I'm not insecure. I just don't want to get with someone and have her dump me the second something better comes along. Or when she finds a better job."

"Sounds pretty insecure to me," Jax said.

"Look, I did her a favor," I said. "She deserves better. She deserves a chance to be with a man worthy of her and her ambitions. That's not me. I'm not the man for her. If she hates me, she's going to find it a lot easier to move on. If I heard her right, she's already moved on."

I grabbed the shot glass that the waitress had just placed on our table and downed it in one go. The alcohol felt like water. I didn't even notice the burn. That was a good sign.

"If you're happy she's free of you, then why are you here drowning your sorrows?" Graham asked.

I shrugged, picking up my beer and taking a long drink. "It's been five minutes. I'm allowed to drink."

I continued to drink until there was very little feeling left in my face. I reached up to make sure my nose was still there.

"I think I'm drunk," I said. At least that was what I thought I said. I realized my lips were numb as well.

"Let's go," Graham said. "I hope you're satisfied."

Eventually, Graham and Jax managed to get me out of the bar and into a cab. I was too drunk to protest, barely aware of my surroundings. I was stuck in the middle with them on each side of me. My head lolled as the cab drove away. The world around me was a blur of lights and movement.

I leaned back in the seat as the city flew by us. At least it felt like it was flying, but in reality, I knew we were probably driving slowly. The gut-wrenching guilt was beginning to subside, replaced by numbness that spread from my toes and fingertips all the way to my brain.

"I think he's done for the night," I heard Jax say, his voice sounding like he was underwater.

Graham half-laughed, "Yeah, let's just hope he can walk. I'm not carrying his ass."

I wanted to respond, to tell him that of course I could walk, but my tongue was heavy in my mouth and words were hard to come by.

"I'm not that drunk," I slurred, trying to sit up. It was a futile effort, my body refusing to cooperate. I slumped back against the seat. The car's movement was making me dizzy. I closed my eyes to block out the discomfort.

The cab came to a stop and Graham and Jax had to help me out. One of them tossed some money at the driver and then we were stumbling toward my apartment, their arms swung over my shoulder, half dragging, half propping me up.

"You're an idiot," Jax said again, his words punctuated by huffs of effort.

"What the fuck have you been eating?" Graham complained. "You must weigh three-hundred pounds."

With some effort, we made it into my apartment.

"I can't get him to his room," Graham grunted.

"We'll put him on the sofa," Jax replied, sounding out of breath.

They dropped me on the sofa where I collapsed in a drunken stupor. As I lay there, teetering on the edge of consciousness, I overheard them talking.

"He only let Marlow go because it was getting real, and he panicked," Graham said.

"You're wrong," I mumbled, my words slurred. "You're wrong."

"Sure, we are, champ," Graham replied, shaking his head. "Sleep it off. Then try again."

Their words echoed in my mind as I drifted off, the alcohol pulling me into a heavy, dreamless sleep. But even in my drunken haze, I knew they were right. I had panicked, let my fears and insecurities ruin something good. And now, I was paying the price.