Chapter 2:
Eight hours after stepping off his front porch in Tulsa, Taylor was settled into a hotel room in New York. He really didn't have any intentions of going anywhere in particular when he left. He thought he might just drive until he got tired and find a hotel where he could crash, but once inside his car he found himself headed straight for the airport. At the ticket counter, he still had no idea of where he wanted to go, so it turned into a crap shoot. New York City, Denver, or Miami. Those three planes were all next on the list to leave. Taylor was not one for humidity, bugs, and people who got around town on rollerblades, so Miami was ruled out quickly, but not as quickly as Denver. One of Melanie's favorite things to do was to go skiing in the Colorado mountains, and there were too many memories there that stung like open wounds.
So, New York it was. He liked New York. He'd been there enough times with Melanie but always on business, so they hadn't exactly formed any romantic memories there. There were enough options in the city that he could easily steer clear of the places they'd visited together. New York was huge and he could blend in there, just another nameless face on the busy streets. Or at least that's what he hoped.
Planning to catch up on the sleep he had missed due to his spontaneous night of traveling, Taylor put the 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the door, pulled the blackout curtains closed, and crawled into the spacious, king-sized bed in the middle of the room. Despite the fact that he hadn't slept in nearly twenty-four hours, Taylor was no closer to sleep than if he had just woken up. So he lay there, in the dark, trying to keep his mind completely empty.
Of course, it was only a matter of time before she crept in. Her long brown hair that always smelled like coconut. Her aquamarine eyes that knew how to see right through him. Her lips, her smile, her voice. As much as he wanted to hate Melanie for doing this to him, he still loved everything about her. She remained the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and despite the pain she was causing, his heart was still telling him that she was the sweetest, most generous person in the world. However, his brain argued that that was a bunch of bullshit because the sweetest person in the world would never rip his heart out like that without warning, without indicating that anything was wrong.
That issue was what filled his mind next. Were there signs that their marriage was failing, obvious or subtle, that he just never picked up on? Was he so blind and in love that he didn't see her pulling away? Wracking his brain for any signs, Taylor thought back over the last few months of his marriage. Sex had dwindled, but wasn't completely gone. He was working later and longer hours than usual, she seemed to be going out with her friends more often, but that happened sometimes, right? That was normal. They were still talking, still saying "I love you," still showing signs of physical affection on a fairly regular basis.
So where was the fallout? Why hadn't he seen this coming? Why did he feel like he'd been unknowingly standing on the tracks of an oncoming train and barely had time to blink before it crashed into him at full speed?
* * * * * * * * *
Taylor set his empty glass down on the bar. He'd lost count of how many beers that had been, but quite frankly he didn't care. After hours of failed attempts at sleeping, Taylor gave up and was grateful for the New York state laws allowing bars to stay open at such an hour. His only intention was to drink until he felt numb. He was exhausted, sick of feeling, wanted it all to go away.
The bartender, a tattooed woman who looked to be in her thirties with a tight ass and little apple-sized breasts, walked over to clear his glass. She wore skintight jeans and a simple black spaghetti strap shirt with the bar's name scrawled across her chest in white letters.
"Another one, doll?" she asked, grabbing his glass.
"Just keep them coming until I pass out," Taylor said, running his fingers through his messy, unwashed hair.
The bartender smiled as she refilled his glass with Guinness on tap. "So what has you drinking your body weight in beer tonight?" she asked casually as she set his glass down in front of him.
Taylor looked at her. It seemed utterly cliched to talk to a bartender about his problems, but something in her eyes made him think that she actually wanted to listen. And to be honest, Taylor really did want to talk. Ever since Melanie left he hadn't been able to voice his thoughts about it to anyone. Maybe talking would actually help. Going numb wasn't working all too well for him.
"Isn't it always the same, obvious sad story?" he said with a little laugh. "My wife moved out and smacked me with divorce papers."
"How long were you two married?" she asked, leaning forward on the bar.
"A little over four years."
"And how many of those were happy years?"
"For me? All four. For her? I have no idea. I never knew she was so unhappy. My life is a little hard to live with, but she knew that going in. I thought she could handle it."
"I'm a full believer that whatever is supposed to happen, happens. As hard as it has to be being left like that, do you ever think that it's because you weren't meant to be together in the long run?" the bartender asked in an all-too-knowing way. She'd had this conversation before, he was sure of it. That was a very polished response.
"Well that's obviously the reason, but it's a very hard one to accept," he said, taking a large gulp of his beer.
"There's a better girl out there for you. One who can handle your life," she said.
Taylor laughed sadly. "It's too hard to even imagine any girl wanting me."
"Um, have you failed to notice that all the girls in this place are eye-fucking the shit out of you, hoping and praying that you turn and look at them?" the bartender said with a smile.
Taylor took a quick glance around to see that not all, but most of the girls in the bar were indeed staring at him. They all gave him flirtatious little smiles as his eyes fell on them. Unfortunately, not a single one sparked even a hint of desire or longing inside of him.
"Not interested," he said with a shrug. "Besides, all they would be to me is a quick fuck. Girls like that don't want to be with me long term."
"What's with you and long term? You're so young, you've already been married, and you still think in terms of forever?"
"It's just the kind of guy I am," he said.
"I think you just need to go out and have fun for awhile."
Taylor looked around one more time and sighed. "I'm still too jaded to even find any woman attractive right now."
An unknown amount of beers later and sufficiently drunk, but nowhere near the numb oblivion he'd hoped for, Taylor stumbled out of the bar he'd spent the last several hours in. The night air was warm on his skin and the city swirled around him in a blur. While his world had cracked and broken into pieces at his feet, everyone else was busy going about their lives in a startlingly normal fashion. Couples happily holding hands strolled past him, groups of friends laughed, and he hated all of them. He hated their carefree smiles, their looks of affection, the joy in all of their eyes. Suddenly feeling dizzy and ill, he slowly and clumsily started making his way back to the hotel.