Page 55 of A Heart On A Sleeve

thirty-two

Sam

Three Beers Deep

“I understand, I’m sorry, Terry. I’ll see you next week,” I say weakly into my phone before laying my head down on my desk.

He was going to come in for a few minor touch-ups from the work we recently did together.

But my heart isn’t in it. To be completely frank, I haven’t tattooed a single piece I’ve cared about this week.

I should care about all of them, but the little flash art that walk-ins pick off the wall is all I’ve been able to muster since Halloween.

I’m still confused and hurt. It didn’t feel like a breakup.

I’ve survived enough of those. Things with Olive were different, and this hurts more because of that.

Like a limb was amputated from my body, and now, I have to learn to walk around without it forever.

It sounds crazy—how could I love someone this deeply so quickly? Somehow, I did.

And that’s not even the worst part of the whole thing, living without her.

It’s by far more painful that she believes I don’t know her, that I was taking advantage of her curse to be a perfect boyfriend, not that I’m just a good and caring person.

I realize that she has been through a lot, but does she not get how fucked up that is?

She basically accused me of being fake, a showboat, a master manipulator.

If I didn’t care about her so much, I’d be pissed enough to last a lifetime.

It was that first night—running off to Golden City, chatting with the bartender—that helped me gain a little perspective.

But when I got back to Mage the next morning and a whole other day passed that Olive didn’t come try to talk to me, I think that’s when I finally realized it’s over for her.

Shaking myself from my depressing thoughts, I stand and stretch for a moment before locking the front door and flicking off the open sign.

I walk to the back, grab a six-pack from the fridge, and spread out in the recliner I have in the break room.

When I installed the TV and placed this cozy blue leather chair in the corner, I imagined this room would be used on the days where I had long appointments with gaps in between.

I envisioned it being a relaxing space, not my new living situation as it’s become this week.

Someone pounds on the front door.

I check my watch: It’s a quarter till eight, and while the sign says I close at eight, there isn’t enough time to squeeze someone else in. That’s a lie, I have worked way past closing, but I’m not going to when I feel like this. I’ve never felt like this before, completely alone, lost.

The knock echoes through the space again as my phone rings and my brother’s face lights up the display.

“Max?”

“Open the door, asshole,” my brother spits out.

Shit! He sounds pissed. I hop up and sprint to the front to let him in.

“Where the fuck were you?” he shouts, shoving past me and into my shop.

“I’ve been here. Where was I supposed to be?” I ask, taking a second to recognize his freshly showered appearance and team gear.

Fuck! It was his opening game. The realization that I missed it makes me feel even worse than I was already feeling. I’ve never missed one before.

“My game, you know the season home opener, the one I got a hat trick in? Why didn’t you come?” Max’s head hangs. He’s disappointed in me, I can tell.

“Max, I wish I had an excuse. I forgot, and I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“How?”

“How did I forget?”

“Yeah, because I told Olive about it, and she wrote everything down. How did you both manage to forget? Neither of you showed.” I’m relieved he didn’t say she came, that would have hurt even worse, I think.

“Uh, well . . .” I run a hand through my hair and think of how to break the news. “We broke up. I haven’t talked to her since last weekend.”

Max doesn’t say anything, he just walks toward the back and grabs a beer from the pack sitting next to the recliner before taking a chair and sliding it into the break room.

“Have a seat. Tell me everything,” he says, gesturing for me to take my place in my comfy chair. His anger over me missing his big night seems all but forgotten.

“This is going to sound nuts, and you can’t tell Mom. You can’t tell anyone, ever,” I warn him.

“Okay? Go on.”

“Olive was cursed by Irina—you know, the famous witch—during the Hollow Hearts Festival. It sounds insane, but she cursed her to wear her heart on her sleeve in the form of a tattoo.” Max is looking at me like I need to be committed, but I continue anyway.

“I didn’t believe it when she first told me, but then she showed me.

The tattoo changed with every emotion or thought she had.

It was wild. But Olive hated it. She searched and searched for Irina to get rid of it, which honestly, I still don’t understand.

On Halloween, she saw Irina’s shop appear again, and when I tried to stop her from going in, she ended things. ”

“Why did you try to stop her?” Max asks.

“Because the last time she got close to Irina, Olive ended up in the emergency room. And because I didn’t really think it was a big deal.

I mean, I have tons of tattoos, and no one that cares about me ever pays attention to them.

She acted like the tattoo made her too vulnerable, but really it was covered most of the time. ”

“So, she dumped you because you didn’t want her to remove it? Help me out, I’m a little confused.”

“No, she dumped me because she said I didn’t know the real her.

She said the real her isn’t vulnerable and the only reason I loved her is because I had the cheat code for making her happy.

Olive said if we stayed together, she would never know if what we had was real.

I would never know if she was opening up to me because she wanted to or if it was because she had to,” I explain, a long sigh leaking out of me as I finish.

“You know that’s bullshit, right?” my brother asks, taking a pull of his beer.

“I mean, yeah, of course it is. But that’s what she believes. Olive thinks I’m manipulative to the point that I would use this thing that made her vulnerable to my advantage.”

“I don’t think she actually believes that. It sounds like she was scared. I mean, who wouldn’t be? If that happened to me, I’d freak the fuck out.”

“That’s what she said. She made it seem like she never would have fallen for me without Irina’s interference.

And do you know what the worst part of the whole thing is?

I wouldn’t have done a single thing different, even if she never had the tattoo.

I fell in love with her, and I tried my best to show her that, but it wasn’t enough. ”

“Sammy, you were enough, you still are. I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but she’s going to come around. She was in love with you, too, I could see it,” Max reassures me.

“Nah, I don’t think so. She went to see the witch, and I haven’t heard a word from her since.

I’ve walked past her house a few times this week, and it never looks like anyone’s home.

Beau said she took an extended leave. I think she’s g-gone .

. .” I choke out the last word, tears beginning to streak down my face.

“Nope, let’s go. Get up, we’re going to Union. You aren’t sitting here and wallowing.” Max stands, snapping his fingers at me.

“I can’t, what if she’s there? What if she’s with someone else? I can’t even go home,” I admit, covering my face with my hands.

“What do you mean you can’t go home?” Max demands.

“Too many memories. I’ve been sleeping here.”

“Get the hell up, right now!” Max shouts. “You have two choices: You can go with me to Union, or I can call Mom.”

“Fine.” I stand and chug the remainder of my beer before grabbing a second and sucking that one down as well.

We head out into the back alley, and the cool November air bites at my skin. I tighten my jacket and wipe away any signs that I’ve been crying. Max leads the way for a few steps before I muster my courage and catch up, syncing our strides.

“Okay, if she happens to be in there, which she won’t be, I will make some sort of distraction so you can duck out and go back to hiding at the shop,” Max rattles out, strategizing how we can handle this without causing me further emotional damage.

I appreciate the effort he’s making, even if I don’t feel like drinking with a crowd.

Max is a great brother, always there to pick up the pieces when one of us needs him to, not that I’ve ever needed it before now.

I guess I’ve taken care of him enough over the years that we are finally evening the score.

Max clutches the handle and opens the door into Union. For a Friday night, it’s remarkably slow. We walk to the far end of the bar and slide onto two worn black stools. Howie is working. I notice the pity in his eyes as he looks in our direction and holds up a finger to tell us it’ll be a second.

“Do you think he knows anything?” Max asks, pointing toward Howie.

“Yeah, he knows. I think he went with her to see Irina,” I say, groaning a little. Howie is the other person I didn’t want to run into. I’m embarrassed about how everything went down, that at the end of the day she didn’t pick me.

Howie approaches, slinging a bar towel down in front of us before leaning in and placing his forearms on the bar. “Sam, Max, what can I get you guys?” he asks.

“A pitcher of beer. I need this one to be at least three beers deep before I take him home.” Max pats my shoulder before giving it a gentle squeeze.

Howie nods and moves to grab the pitcher, filling it with ice-cold beer before returning to set it in front of us.

He reaches into the cooler below the bar and pulls out two frosted glasses.

Max wastes no time pouring, and I begin with a long gulp of the cool skunky liquid before looking Howie in the eyes.

“Have you talked to her?” I ask, knowing I shouldn’t.

“About fifteen minutes ago,” he replies, that same pitiful look bubbling on his face again.

“Well, at least I know she’s alive and well.” I chug almost my entire glass of beer.

“She’s alive, but I wouldn’t say she’s well,” Howie says before turning to help a new customer at the other end of the bar.

“What the hell does he mean, she’s not well?” I ask, looking at my brother.

“She’s probably heartbroken,” Max replies, drinking down his own glass and refilling both of ours.

“She’s not heartbroken, she dumped me.”

“Doesn’t mean she didn’t break her own heart in the process. Don’t be an asshole. She loved you, no doubt in my mind,” Max retorts.

“She definitely loves you,” Howie says, placing a hand on my shoulder as he walks past me into the back.

Max and I each drink down two more glasses in silence.

He pretends he’s watching whatever basketball game is on the TV overhead, and I internally spin out.

Why do they both insist Olive’s in love with me when she made it very clear she isn’t?

She acted like we didn’t know each other at all.

She hasn’t reached out since Halloween, and frankly, the more I think about everything, the angrier I get.

I’m not manipulative. I would never use her or do something to hurt her.

She made it seem like I was a dumbass bad boy who only treated her kindly because I had something to gain.

Never mind all the times I went above and beyond to make things special for her, or the times I was patient when I knew she was holding back.

“Do you want another pitcher or food?” Howie asks as he approaches.

“I want to know what you know. Why did she do it? What happened when she saw Irina? Does she honestly believe I manipulated things with her?” I rattle off a slew of questions.

“Let’s go out back.” Howie gives me a stern look, like I should know better than to talk about this so openly.

Max and I follow him outside despite the protest in my belly. I don’t want to hide anymore. I hate secrets and lying. I don’t want to go into a back alley and whisper. But Howie pushes open the rear door and we file out, standing in the cool dark space.

“Look, Sam. Olive is my friend, one of my closest friends. I want to help you, but I need you to know that while I appreciate how close you and I have gotten, I’m on her side if I need to be.” He shifts nervously.

“Howard, answer his fucking questions. He deserves to know,” Max says, a murderous look on his face.

“Okay, but Olive needs to explain most of the details. I’ll give you the basics . . .” I nod and signal for him to continue.

“Olive grew up never feeling adequate, made to believe she wasn’t good enough. Those feelings have made it really hard for her to open up to people, and she doesn’t believe she’s capable of it. I don’t think any of this has anything to do with you, though, and I know she’s in love with you.”

“No, she’s not. So what happened with Irina?” I ask, sloughing off his assessment.

“She is, if she wasn’t she wouldn’t have spent the last week in bed crying.

I’ve been the one there, wiping her tears and making sure she eats.

If you want to continue this conversation, we are going to get one thing straight.

You are not going to tell me how she feels or what she’s going through.

I slept on her bedroom floor for two days straight just to make sure she was safe, so I knew she wasn’t alone,” Howie warns.

My heart plummets into my stomach. I want to be the one to soothe her, to be there for her. I nod for him to continue, committing with a simple move of my head that I won’t assume what she’s going through.

“When we saw Irina, Olive was so brave. She demanded what she wanted and stood up for herself. Irina confirmed that she didn’t play a part in your relationship with Olive.

But the bottom line is that Olive needs to confront her insecurities on her own.

I know there will come a day where she comes to you.

The thing you need to ask yourself is if she’s worth the wait, if she’s worth dealing with all of this.

She doesn’t think you will wait for her, doesn’t believe you would want to. ”

I’m speechless. I told Olive I would wait for her forever, that I’d love her in this lifetime and the next. I wish she’d believed me.

My phone beeps inside my pocket, capturing my attention. I grab it and read the message from Xavier.

Xav

It’s Baby Time!

Fuck! Not that I expected my best friend’s pregnant wife to schedule her birth around my breakup, but I don’t know if I can deal with this right now.

I haven’t even been home in a week. What good will I have to offer my friend in my current state?

Remembering how close we are and that being there isn’t optional, I send a quick reply.

On my way!

“Thanks, Howie. I, uh, I gotta go,” I say, flashing the screen at Max.

Howie nods at us and heads back inside as Max and I sprint back toward Eerie. My best friend is having a baby. There’s nothing else in the world that matters right now.