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“Neither can I.”
Some Clarity (22)
“Rough night?”
Ryan nodded, having a seat at the half-full hotel bar, as people were starting to filter out. He looked about as disheveled as humanly possible, with post-sex hair, a white tank top, neon green basketball shorts that literally came to his knees, and black dress shoes with no socks.
“What are you drinkin’?” the bartender asked him.
He patted his shorts and sighed. “Water, I guess. Left my wallet in the room.”
“I got you,” the bartender told him. “Whatever you want. You look like you need it.”
“Uh, thanks. Whiskey on the rocks, please.”
“Wow, OK. Wouldn’t have pegged Ryan Baylor for a straight whiskey guy.” Ryan shot him a puzzled look. “Yeah, I know who you are. Grew up a huge Isles fan. My wife and I take our kids to Bridgeport games all the time. Much cheaper. I’m Chris.”
Ryan shook his hand and examined him. He was probably about Amara’s age, a decent-looking guy with a few stray grays peppering his dark black hair. He poured himself a shot, handed Ryan the whiskey, and lifted for a toast. “To an NHL call-up sooner than later.”
Ryan clinked his glass. “I’ll drink to that!” He sipped, realizing he probably should have been drinking water, but deciding at this point, it didn’t really matter.
“Wanna talk about it?”
“Talk about what?”
“You look like hell, kid. What happened?”
He took another sip. “You good at keeping secrets?”
“It’s literally the most important part of a bartender’s job. Hang on.” He went to grab a drink order from another customer, as Ryan debated just how much he was willing to divulge. Chris returned. “So, what’s going on?”
“You know what? Fuck it. All my personal business is apparently all over the internet already anyway. So here goes: I’m in an open relationship with my much older roommate and we just banged out a threesome with another guy, which I knew I couldn’t handle, but agreed to anyway because I wanna make her happy. But the thing is: there’s no making this woman happy. Everything I do seems to piss her off or upset her.”
Chris stood there for a moment, wide-eyed, before shaking his head. “Yeah, that’s some pile of shit, bud. How much older we talking?”
“She’s 18 years older than me.”
“Wow. That’s a hell of a gap. So, she’s about my age then. I’m 43.”
“She’s 41. I’m…hopelessly fucking in love with her, but I can’t seem to do anything right.”
“Welcome to women. Especially at this age? She’s finding herself, bud. The whole ‘midlife crisis’ thing that guys go through? Women hit it about this age, start questioning all their life decisions, trying to rediscover themselves, figure out who they are. My wife’s going through the same. I mean, we’re not in an open relationship though. That just seems like an unnecessary added layer to this shit cake.”
“It’s…a long story. But she recently got out of a divorce, coupled with the fact that I’m kind of a sex addict, so when she pitched it to me, I figured, ‘Fuck it, why not?’ And it’s turning out to be an absolute nightmare. Oh, and the guy we just hooked up with? It’s her best friend, who also happens to be one of my teammates.”
“Ryan Baylor, Ryan Baylor,” he said, pouring himself another shot and topping Ryan off. “I hear a lot of things as a bartender. But that? Wow.” He threw back the shot as Ryan took another sip. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything quite like that.”
“Yeah. In about a month of dating, we’ve somehow managed to completely fuck things up with each other. We were friends. Almost wish we’d just kept it at that.”
“It sounds to me like you’re trying to make something work that isn’t gonna. That gap, man. You guys essentially speak two different languages. There’s an entire generation between you. Anyway, you’re young, hot, soon to be loaded. Why aren’t you just out there having a good time?”
“Because,” he said sadly. “I can’t even picture my life without her anymore. She’s…an amazing woman. She’s so patient with me. Yes, I piss her off, but she’s so supportive.”
“My hot take, for what it’s worth? She’s too old for you, Ryan. Especially coming off a divorce like that. She doesn’t know who she is or what she wants. And when she finally figures it out, it’s gonna be different from what you want. You guys might play well together, but where’s it gonna go long term?”
Ryan sighed. “I don’t know. I just know I love her. So much.”
“I understand that. But sometimes that just isn’t enough.” He grabbed a rag and wiped down the bar. “I don’t suppose you’d tell me which teammate it is?”
