Jimmy stretched as he lifted out of his velveteen easy chair and ambled to the mini fridge for a second beer. On top of the fridge was his answering machine. The tiny red light pulsed, indicating one new message. He already knew who had left it and what she'd have to say, but he pressed play anyway. Hearing Jeannie's voice was like a stab in his heart. What the hell. He should have just erased it.
"Rebecca keeps bugging me but I don't know if I can make it, Jimmy. She says you want me here but if that was true you'd tell me yourself. So I think she's scheming again––I don't like that. And even if it is true, you broke my heart. I don't know, I just don't know. I'm sorry."
The line went to a dial tone. According to the call display on his phone, she'd called from the bar. Just like him, she was scrounging to make ends meet, living pay check to pathetic pay check ever since the real estate market had crashed, taking everything else with it.
He cracked open the fresh beer and nodded to himself. He had done the right thing. The right thing for her. Some other guy out there would be able to take real good care of her, give her the life she deserved. She shouldn't be working at some falling-down bar full of grimy old men. It didn't matter that they were nice to her and she liked it there; she was better than that. A better guy could hook her up with a better job if nothing else.
He trudged back to his seat, took a couple of sips of his beer and began flipping channels on the TV. Normally the flickering screen would send him into a trance, but this time a tear swelled in the corner of his eye. Aw, shit. He got up again. Went back to the answering machine. Pressed play. Hearing her talk was like taking a hit of the best and worst drug in the world, one that made him feel so good at the time and like absolute hell once it wore off.
Listening to her voice repeat, You broke my heart, he was like a penitent delivering lashes across the bare skin on his back. It stung right down to his bones to hear her say that, and he deserved pain that deep for what he'd said to her. How he'd failed not just her, but everyone, including himself. Finally, he wore himself down. His empty beer can fell out of his hand and rolled along the brown industrial carpet as he collapsed into his velvet easy chair. Sleep came, wrapping its arms around him in a mothers' embrace, allowing him to forget it all.