Coffee Conversations

Coffee and Conversations: 11:11 PM

~ 11:11 PM ~

A banging on the door rattled Garrett’s nerves. Putting his glass of whiskey down, he walked to the door and stared through the peephole. He watched Ava raise her fist to the door and bang again. She hit the door with such force he stepped back from it in fear it would splinter in two.

“God damnit Garrett, open the fucking door,” she roared from the other side.

He stared through the peephole again and saw she was soaking wet. Putting his hand on the doorknob, he sighed.

“Open the fucking door,” she said, tugging on the doorknob. “I know you’re in there Garrett.”

Letting the doorknob go, he continued to watch her through the peephole. Anger radiated through the door from the other side. If there was on person who could start a fire with her eyes, Garrett knew it would be Ava. There was so much hatred in her eyes they appeared malevolent and heartless. Hatred he had induced.

“Seriously Garrett?” Ava banged on the door again sending a shiver through it like an echo. “You decide this is the night you confess everything and then don’t have enough balls to man up and face me when it’s tough.” She screamed angrily at the door. “You fucking fix this Garrett. Don’t be a shitty fucking friend. You fucking fix what you broke!”

Garrett watched her raise her fist to bang on the door but she just turned and walked away.

Sobbing, Ava clumsily made her way to the elevator. The pain inside her felt like she was being slowly pulled apart. She felt like she was dying on the inside, cell by cell. “Hello,” she said into her phone.

“Where are you?” Walsh’s voice asked from the other side.

“Leaving Garrett’s,” she answered. “He wouldn’t even open the door.”

“Are you okay?”

“Does it sound like I’m okay Walsh? Did my voicemail sound like I was okay? Of course I’m not okay!” Ava snapped.

“I’ll be there in less than ten to pick you up.”

“No, I’m going home,” she bawled.

“Your apartment is being painted remember?”

Ava moaned into the phone. “I don’t give a fuck. I’m going home.” She hung up on Walsh and collapsed into the elevator. Staring at the screen on her phone, she wasn’t sure if her eyes were blurry from all the tears or if the phone was smudged from all the teary fingerprints but she dialed Hart’s number again and waited. The phone rang twice and then went to voice mail. “It’s me,” she wept into the phone. “Please, pick up. Please Hart. Pick up.” She fell silent and just stood there, staring at the phone as if by sheer will she could force Hart to respond from the other side.

A dial tone reverberated through the elevator and then fell silent.

Taking a deep breath, Ava gathered what energy she had left into leaving the elevator and walking five blocks to her apartment. Things had been good between her and Hart in the car. He knew something had happened but let her process it. By the time they had arrived at his place, she was ready to talk to him about everything that had happened. It wasn’t the roses or the kiss that upset him. When she honestly admitted that she had waited all this time for Garrett’s confession, is when she lost Hart’s full attention. It wasn’t the current feelings she had for Garrett, but the love she once had for him in their relationship. That unrequited love pushed Hart over the edge. Their calm and quiet conversation turned into an all out war within the inhalation of one deep breath. Ava wasn’t fully aware of how angry she was at Garrett until she and Hart started to argue. She took the anger out on the one person in her life that she never wanted to hurt.

Hart.

Not only did she hurt him. She feared she ruined the one great thing she had going in her life that didn’t revolve around Walsh, Garrett, and Porn.

She had ruined her chance to love.

 

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