Page 58 of Notes About Vodka (Happily Ever After Hangover #1)

Chapter Thirty-One

VAL

I don’t understand the Fourth of July. Fireworks, patriotism, and barbecues don’t resonate with me, but I know one thing for certain: I need to make up for my behavior the other weekend when Laura was home.

I’m using this trip to Baltimore to make things right with Laura.

I need her to see how serious I am about her, about us.

I can ’ t believe I called her a bitch.

I immediately begged for Skipper’s help the next morning after the tip when we woke up to find Laura had already left. She didn’t even leave a note. Just a text to Skip later in the day that she was already back at the lab, working.

It took nearly a week of relentless text apologies and constant reaching out to Skipper, just for him to hear me out. He wasn’t having it at first. Said I needed to be “genuine, not just sorry.” But I was, am, really sorry, and I finally break through when I admit how badly I’d overreacted.

Monday

Me: I really messed up. I know. I shouldn’t have called her that, or even thought that way. It wasn’t fair, or even true. Just—stupid and mean. I see it now.

Skipper: Dude, that’s an understatement. You don’t even understand what she was going through.

Me: You’re right. I don’t. I was upset about something so small in comparison.

Me: I need to fix this. Help me? I want to be there for her. I want to make her feel supported, the way she’s always supported me.

Tuesday

Me: I can’t stop thinking about it, man. Every time I remember what I said, I feel worse. I had no right to lash out at her like that. She deserved understanding, not…whatever that was. Can you help me figure out a way to apologize in person?

Skipper: It’s not just about an apology, Val. You need to understand why you went off in the first place.

Me: I know. I think it’s because I felt left out. But that’s no excuse for how I treated her. I get that now. I want her to feel like I’m there for her, no matter what.

Wednesday

Me: I miss her, Skip. I keep replaying that night and wishing I’d just been supportive of her. Do you think she’ll even want to see me?

Skipper: That depends. You need to show her you’re in this for the right reasons.

Me: I am, I swear. I want to be there for her, even if it’s from a distance. But I’d really love a chance to say it to her, face-to-face. I need her to know she matters more to me than my pride.

Skipper: That’s good to hear. It’s a start.

Thursday

Me: Look, I get if you think this sounds like too little, too late, but if there’s any way you could help me reach her, I’d be so grateful. I’m committed to making it right, and I won’t back down on that.

Skipper: Dude, I can’t help you. You are the one who must fix this.

Me: What will it take to get you to help me?

Me: Laura listens to you Skipper. If you ask her to give me a second chance, she will

Me: Skip…

Skipper: Okay, fine. But don’t call me Skip, that’s reserved for people I like

Skipper: If you’re serious about it, there might be a way. Rhea’s coming back in a couple of days without her boyfriend. We could take a road trip down to see Laura in Baltimore for 4th of July even though she still has two weeks left with her internship.

Skipper: But Val—you mess this up, there’s no coming back.

Skipper: And don’t bother asking me for help because I’ll be a ghost

Me: Understood. I won’t. Thank you, Skip.I still don’t think Skipper believes I’m serious, but I’m glad for his help. Hopefully, Rhea will be a little bit more understanding.

Two days later…

Here I am, driving with Skipper and Rhea to surprise my girlfriend for the holiday. We decided not to tell Laura, loving how excited she gets when she’s surprised.

Rhea and Skipper have the energy I’m missing—road trip playlists, road games, and endless, lighthearted banter. The drive is almost five hours, and they keep things relaxed, letting me process everything while keeping the car from going silent.

“I still can’t believe you, man,” Skipper says at one point, shaking his head but laughing a little. “But hey, that’s why we’re doing this. She deserves to know you mean it.”

“I know,” I say, nodding. “Thanks for being here, both of you. I don’t think I could do this alone.”

“You’re doing this for Laura,” Rhea says from the back, adjusting her seatbelt. “That counts for a lot, Val. And while I understand your point of view now, if you ever call my girl that horrible word again, I’ll be the one who cuts you.”

I nod, grateful. She’s serious and I will gladly let her.

Laura has always been patient with me, but I know I’ve pushed her limits with that one word. Shame covers my body for the millionth time since last weekend. This trip is my way of showing her I’m willing to try.

We pull up to Laura’s apartment complex in the late afternoon. The sun hangs lazily in the sky, casting a golden hue over everything. I take a deep breath as we exit the car, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves.

I get out of my Mazda, nerves kicking in all over again, my heart pounding as I stare up at her building.

“Alright, ready?” Skipper gives me a supportive slap on the back, and I can’t help but crack a nervous smile.

“More than ready,” I say. Taking a deep breath, I step forward with them beside me.

“Yeah, let’s do this,” Rhea replies.

Mustering as much confidence as I can, we make our way to Laura’s apartment. I knock on the door, and after a moment that feels like an eternity, it swings open. Laura stands there, her eyes wide with surprise and then joy.

“Val! What are you doing here?” she exclaims, getting ready to throw her arms around me but stopping just in time to back away.

Awkwardly, she hugs herself. I pull her arms apart and drag her into me, giving her a hug I know she loves as she slowly relaxes into my embrace.

“I missed you,” I say simply, holding her close. “And I wanted to make up for last time. I’m so sorry lubimaya.”

When she finally pulls back, she wiggles out of my arms and turns to Rhea, her face lighting up as she throws her arms around her .

“You’re back!” she squeals, her voice filled with that pure excitement I love seeing in her. She doesn’t let go of Rhea as she turns to Skip, a playful glare narrowing her eyes. She reaches out to punch him lightly on the shoulder. “And I know this was your doing. Mastermind much?”

Skip laughs, rubbing his shoulder with exaggerated pain. “Ouch! Actually, you might want to direct some of that credit his way,” he says, jerking his thumb at me. “Mr. Sappy over here was the brains behind the whole thing.”

“Yeah, sure, put all the blame on me,” I say, feigning insult. “I just wanted to bring you back your other half.” I give Rhea a nod, who’s now just grinning as she and Laura pull each other into another hug.

Laura glances back at me with that smirk of hers. “Val’s got a sentimental side,” she teases, crossing her arms. “Should I be worried?”

“Oh, please.” I roll my eyes, putting on my best deadpan. “I’m completely ruthless. Skipper and Rhea just brought out my soft side for today.”

“Ruthless?” she laughs, shaking her head. “Yeah sounds about right.”

Skipper grins and throws an arm around my shoulders. “Come on, Laura, don’t let him fool you. He’s been so lovesick all week I thought I’d need to start buying stock in tissues.”

“Thanks, Skip,” I mutter, giving him a good-natured shove.

Laura’s eyes soften, her smile brightening. “All of you...really. This means a lot.” She lets out a breath, holding back a tear as she glances between us. “Guess I should get out the best snacks I’ve got if I’m hosting this crew.”

“Uh-oh,” Rhea says, winking at Laura. “I hope that means your good snacks, and not the suspicious stuff at the back of your pantry.”

Laura laughs, shaking her head as she leads us inside. "Only the finest expired pretzels for you guys because seriously, I don’t get a lot of time off from the lab.”

We spend the evening catching up, lounging by the pool until we are kicked out. Laura’s laughter is infectious, and soon the tension I’ve been carrying melts away. Skipper and Rhea help me blend seamlessly into the group, and it feels like we’ve all been friends forever.

Once we’re back in her apartment, we spread out in Laura’s living room, balancing pizza boxes on our laps.

The conversation drifts from one topic to another, stories about past road trips, old college pranks, and the time Rhea got lost in New Orleans.

I’m wrapped in the warmth of being with people who care about each other, feeling like a part of something I didn’t realize I’d been missing.

Eventually, Skipper stretches and lets out a yawn. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m about one pepperoni slice away from passing out,” he says, grinning as he shuffles to his feet.

Rhea laughs, slapping him lightly on the arm. “I’m with you. This pizza coma is calling my name.” She turns to Laura. “Thanks for letting us crash, hon.”

“Of course,” Laura says, hugging her. “Guest room is all yours.”

They head off, leaving Laura and me in the soft glow of her living room.

She looks over at me with a small, vulnerable smile before she stands and begins clearing away the pizza boxes.

I help her, carrying our empty plates to the kitchen.

As we work side by side, there’s a quietness between us, an unspoken conversation lingering in the air.

When we return to the couch, Laura takes a deep breath, the smile fading. “Val...about last weekend,” she starts, her voice soft. “I know things got intense. And I know you’re sorry, but I need you to understand...that moment with my mom brought up a lot.”

I nod, willing myself to listen, to understand the weight in her voice.