“Appletinis are the color of jealousy and venom,” Emma groused as she stared morosely into her drink.
Sitting across from her, Sarah frowned in response, “Stop it. He is not worth all this sadness. The guy was a jerk, and you can do so much better.”
Emma shook her head sadly, “I thought he might be the one.” She took another sip of her poisonous drink, “I mean, I thought he loved me.” A tear disappeared into the green pool in her martini glass.
“He…” Sarah paused before finishing her thought, then muttered, “Oh shit. That fucking asshat twatwaffle.”
That was enough to pull Emma’s gaze from her glass in curiosity, and as she looked around the bar, she spotted Jake across the room. With another woman. A young beautiful woman with long curly blonde hair and a perfect body.
The pink blush the appletini had given her cheeks drained away, as she whispered, “He said there wasn’t anyone else. He said he just needed… space.”
Muttering low enough to barely be audible, Sarah growled, “I’ll space him, the shitbird. He knows this is our spot. Why the fuck would he bring her here if he wasn’t trying to hurt you?”
Emma tossed back the last couple of swallows of her drink, snatched her purse from the table and stood. “I’m going home. I don’t want to sit here and watch him flirt with some bimbo while my heart is breaking.”
Sarah stood to join her, but Emma held up a hand, “No. I’m just gonna walk home. It’s not that far, and I need to be alone to think.”
The two women exchanged a brief hug, during which Sarah whispered, “I’ll go spit in his drink at the bar.”
Emma choked on a faint laugh as she turned toward the door.
It was a nice enough night. Not hot. Not cold. Clear skies. Emma trudged down the sidewalk, head down and shoulders slumped. Questions ran through her mind faster than she could even begin to answer them.
Why did he leave? Didn’t he love me? Did I do something wrong? What will I do now? Will I be alone forever? Will anyone ever love me? Who was that woman? Did he leave me because of her or meet her after he left? Could I have done something differently to make him stay? Why does everyone always leave me? What’s wrong with me?
The litany of misery played over and over again, repeating like a playlist on repeat. So caught up on her thoughts, she didn’t notice the rapidly darkening sky until a boom of thunder seemed to explode directly above her, followed quickly by a flash of lightning and enough water to drown a whale. Oddly, the rain seemed almost to taste of salt as it dripped down her face.
One hit too many, and she began to sob, her tears invisible in the rain. She wailed alone on the sidewalk, still half a mile from home, and convinced her life was nothing but misery.
Seemingly from nowhere, a bus silently pulled up next to her. There was something strange about it, the proportions not what one would usually see in a city bus, but what really stood out was that it was a deep midnight blue with white writing that seemed dripped onto its surface. It read: Pity Party Bus Lines — We’re Always There For The Ones Who Need Us.
The door whooshed open, and a black woman with a blue cap matching the color of the bus leaned her head out and called in a melodic voice, “You look like you could use a ride, sweetie. Hop on in!”
Emma hesitated a moment, but the rain was pouring so hard she could barely see more than twenty feet in front of her, and there were clearly other people sitting on the bus. So she crossed the verge and stepped up into the warm, dry interior.
The door swished close behind her, and the driver smiled at her cheerfully, her white teeth bright against her dark skin. Her voice was smooth and soothing like sliding under an electric blanket after playing in the snow, “You just sit wherever you’d like. I can drop you off at home.”
Emma blinked. “I live just up the street about half a mile.”
With a knowing nod and that sweet smile, the driver answered, “Oh, I know where you’re going, Emma. Don’t worry. Have a seat now. Safety first!”
Emma paused, feeling a moment of alarm. How did the driver know her name and where she lived? But the driver whispered something she couldn’t hear, and Emma felt strangely calm as she nodded and walked down the aisle, her gaze taking in the other passengers.
Just behind the driver sat a beautiful Indian woman, her face etched with sadness, staring silently out the window.
A few rows behind her sat a large man in a business suit who kept compulsively checking his phone every few minutes. With each glance at the phone, his expression switched from hope to panicked disappointment so quickly it was almost comical.
Across from the businessman, a woman with dark hair and eyes sat staring blankly into space, her fingers spinning a gold ring around over and over.
Toward the back, a teenaged girl sat, shoulders hunched, sobbing. Fat blobs of mascara streaked in lines down her face, until tears leaped like kamikazes from her chin to soak into her t-shirt.
Settling into a seat about halfway down, Emma looked back toward the driver, who smiled reassuringly at her in the mirror, then began driving. After only a few moments, they were pulling up in front of her apartment.
As Emma headed for the door, the driver stopped her with a touch on the arm. “It’ll be okay, dear. You’ll see.”
She wasn’t so sure, but Emma gave a faint smile in response and stepped off the bus. She found herself back under a clear sky, the rain having stopped as suddenly as it started. She trudged up the path and into the lobby of her building.
Jake was waiting for her, leaning against the wall beside her door and scrolling on his phone. Emma stopped dead when she saw him. He had looked up as she stepped off the elevator. When he saw that she’d stopped walking, he rushed toward her. “You’re here! I’ve been waiting.”
It crossed her mind that he couldn’t have been waiting long, since she’d only left the bar half an hour earlier, but the thought dissipated as he wrapped his strong arms around her wet, shaking frame.
She took in the warm cedar and musk smell of his cologne as she let herself lean against him for a long moment, so glad to be back in his arms. Then she pulled away.
He reluctantly let her go, asking, “How did you get so wet?”
“Who is she?” Emma asked.
Jake paused, carefully reading her expression before putting on a remorseful look. “She’s just a woman from work. And sitting with her for one drink was enough to tell me I’d made a terrible mistake. I missed you.” His big dark eyes were full of sadness and hope as he gazed at her.
She’d always loved his eyes; they were so expressive. “Why did you break up with me then?” she asked, unable to stop her voice from cracking partway through the sentence.
He reached out for her again, tugging her against the warmth of his broad chest, as he replied, “I was scared. I love you, and I was scared about how much I need you.”
Her breath caught. This was what she’d wanted to hear more than anything else he could’ve said. But did she believe him?
She was silent in his arms for several seconds, before pulling away and walking down the hall toward her apartment. He followed, “Will you please forgive me? Take me back?”
Emma unlocked her door and invited him in with a gesture, her mind racing through her possible answers. Should she trust him? Should she question him more? Was this really happening?
His smile was broad as he stepped into the apartment, and he grasped her hand tightly as he walked past her, pulling her with him into the living room. It was clear he felt he’d already been forgiven, and moment later, they were kissing urgently on the couch.
It was immediately clear he still wanted her.
Emma pushed him away and shook her head, “I don’t know, Jake. You really hurt me.” Her eyes welled up with tears again as she remembered seeing him with the other woman.
His face took on an anguished expression, as he grasped her hands again. “I know. I’m so sorry. That’s the last thing I’d ever wanna do, baby. I love you so much.”
Emma’s eyes dropped close as he said it again, and she felt a wave of relief rush through her. Maybe it was going to be okay after all. The bus driver had been right.
Her eyes shot open again as she heard his next words. “Will you marry me?”
Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod! This really was her dream come true. Her and Jake together forever, maybe with little Jakes and Emmas running around.
A smile broke across her face for the first time all evening, as she nodded, “Yes. Yes, of course I will!”
They were married three months later in a beautiful ceremony.
Two years passed in mostly blissful matrimony. Emma was living her dream. She had a career she liked, a husband she adored, and now she was pregnant with their first child — a boy they were going to name Jake Jr.
That’s when she found the texts and photos on his phone. Photos of the blonde woman from the bar that night. Photos of the blonde woman wearing lingerie. Wearing nothing at all. Photos of Jake with the blonde woman. The blonde woman he’d only had one drink with before deciding he needed to be with Emma.
Some of the texts were… explicit. The photos were moreso.
She confronted him, of course.
“What is this? How can you have a smutty photo of this woman? You said you only had one drink with her!” she accused, her tone wavering between anger and despair.
With a long-suffering sigh, Jake answered, “She doesn’t mean anything. You’re overreacting. You know you always do this. I mean, I married you, right?” He paused, and his voice took on a slightly wheedling tone, “Don’t you trust me, baby?”
Did she? Emma didn’t think she did.
“It’s just that I’m so big now, and she’s so beautiful,” she said in a small voice, her hands stroking her protruding belly.
Jake’s hand covered hers and he put his other on her shoulder. “Yes, but with my baby.”
She hated it when he said “my baby.” She always wished he’d say “our baby.” But when she complained, he always said she was nitpicking, as usual.
There was simply no more denying it. Jake was cheating. He’d always been cheating. He didn’t love her. He’d never loved her. And her life was a lie. A lie with a child on the way.
She felt the tears begin to seep from her eyes as she sagged onto the couch, the salty taste reminding her of that night two years earlier. As she sat silent and staring, all Emma could think was that she wished she’d never gotten off that damn bus and found him waiting at her apartment. She’d have been so much better off if she’d never gotten back together with him.
She closed her eyes and put her head in her hands, trying to decide what to do next, wondering when the couch became so uncomfortable.
A hand came to rest on her shoulder, and she lifted her head, ready to yell at Jake for being such a scumbag and to tell him she wanted a divorce…
Only to find herself face-to-face with the driver of Pity Party Bus Lines.
The woman was watching her with concern. “Are you all right?” she asked. “You must’ve fallen asleep.”
Emma blinked and looked around. The bus was exactly as she remembered. The same passengers. She was wearing the same clothes she’d worn to the bar that night.
Her confused gaze found the bus driver’s sympathetic smile. “I told you it would be all right,” she said softly. “You’re home now. And you have choices.” She looked around at the other people on the bus, before adding, “Remember, dear. Things happen because they must.”
Emma nodded, and slowly rose to exit the bus, thinking, “Maybe I really am better off without him.”
As she walked down the aisle, she noticed the other passengers seemed different. The businessman wasn’t checking his phone; he was just sitting quietly. And the Indian woman was no longer looking out the window. The two women shared a faint smile. She didn’t look quite so sad anymore, either.
The sky was clear as Emma stepped off the bus again. Her clothes were dry. And everything seemed just a little brighter.
—
‼️ If you liked this, you may want read some of my other fiction.
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I will join any and every pity party you write about. Phenomenal. You might be my favorite author :)
Aww, I love the Pity Party Bus Line! It's like whimsical but not, and it gets you to think about the better side of things, even when shit hits the fan.
Well done.