Too Late To Apologise

In an insignificant moment he found his thoughts drifting to his past. His past with her. And before he knew it, the smell of bourbon was replaced by her intoxicating scent. He could smell her, taste her, feel her, hear her laugh. It was as if she had never left. And when he saw her smile he smiled too, and a wave of calm settled on him. He missed her.

Snapping out of his trance, he took a long slug, finishing it to the last drop.

His conscience crept back in and he thought about her. Would the scares he left leave a mark for life? Would she ever be able to truly trust again? Had she already found someone to put her back together? Or was the damage he caused incorrigible? a fleeting pang of remorse.

He wanted her to be happy again. He wanted to hear he childlike laugh again. He wanted to be the reason her eyes went wide in sheer excitement, he wanted to be the reason for her to blush again. He missed her quirks.

The thoughts lingered as he faded into a restless slumber, marred by images of her- the first time they met, the time they’d spent together. He woke with a sense of déjà vu. He was doing it again, cheating. But this time it wasn’t on her, but with her.

He poured himself another stiff one and finished it in one swing.

He found himself wondering if they would ever have a second chance. If she would forgive him and let him do her right this time. If he was still the one she wanted to wake up to. If it were his arms she would seek solace in.

But, the girl he was with meant more to him than she ever did. There were no voids to be filled. Yet, there was something about her that still held a piece of him. He couldn’t shake it off, he dint want to shake it off.

The alcohol got the better of him, he drifted off.

The next morning he woke with a sense of heaviness. He decided he’d call her. It wasn’t that long since they ended. Maybe he still had a shot, maybe he’ll know she’s happy again.

He opened the paper, an innocuous routine. A chill ran down his spine, he dreaded what he was seeing. He was too late, he had let her go. Now he’d live with the regret that she’d never know- she wasn’t just another girl, she had meant more.

The lump in his throat grew bigger and he wanted to scream. Her obituary was dated a day before the dream.