If You Still Want Me, Please Forgive Me

I woke up with a pounding in my head that immediately reminded me why I had stopped drinking in the first place. Last night was just one of those nights, though. Getting wasted was much more attractive to me than dealing with my fiancé who had cheated on me, thus ending the plans we had made for a future together. I gave him three years of my life, and he threw it all away for another girl that he claimed to love. It was more than enough reason to go to a bar and get wasted.

Maybe I was not as innocent as I claimed to be, though. I felt someone’s warm arms around my waist, and while I had not remembered who’s they were or how they got there, I did remember that I had started the evening out alone. Then again, I knew myself better than that. I was not one for random hookups, even when I was intoxicated. I bit my lip in confusion as I gently turned myself around in this mystery man’s arms.

My eyes widened in shock as I realized I was with the one person I trusted fully, the man I had considered my best friend long before I met my fiancé, and someone many women would give anything to be with right now, Brandon Flowers. How the hell had I run into him last night? I certainly hoped I had not called him to be with me on purpose, I was never very pleasant to be with when I was drunk. I became a clingy, desperate mess, and he knew that. He had seen me drunk far too many times.

I gently moved his arms away from my waist. He was sleeping peacefully, and I did not want to disturb that for more than one reason. Quietly, I put my clothes back on, and stumbled to the bathroom where my Tylenol was kept. I sighed and walked downstairs, sitting down at the kitchen table. There were no missed messages on my phone, or any trace that I had once lived with someone here. I was not sure why I thought there would be, he made his feelings about us very clear. Hell, he even had all his stuff packed and ready to go as he was ending our relationship.

Since I was basically alone, I did what I should have just done last night. I buried my head in the pillow on my couch and I cried. I had lost my fiancé, and I had possibly lost my best friend, too. How fucking awkward would this be? Even if neither one of us remembered that night, it would always be there. The thought of this upset me far more than my break-up. Brandon was the one person I could trust no matter what, he always listened to me and made time for me. If I lost that, I had no idea what I would do.

The sound of footsteps coming down the stairs forced me to compose myself. Brandon did not need to know I had been crying. Though, I was unsure how long I was going to last like this. I never did handle confrontation well, and it was not like this one could be avoided. He woke up in my house, in my bed, without any clothes on, and that would raise some questions in anyone’s mind.

“Good morning, Natalie,” Brandon said calmly as he sat down next to me. I looked at him in confusion, and he gave me a small smile in return.

“Do you remember last night?” I whispered. I needed to get this over with quickly.

“Parts of it,” he responded. “I don’t remember sleeping with you but I can only assume that I did, if that’s what you were going to ask.”

“Yeah, so do I.” I bit my lip in hesitation. “Can you tell me what you do remember?”

“You called me, and told me to come over here. You sounded upset, so I came over. When I got over, you were already wasted. You gave me a drink, and you told me about Chris. I was worried about you and I didn’t want you to be alone, especially like that, so I figured I may as well join you,” he said, laughing slightly at the thought of that, being concerned about me and then getting drunk himself. “and after that, I don’t remember much.”

“I’m so sorry Brandon,” I replied. “I shouldn’t have called you when I was like that.”

“I didn’t have to come,” he responded. He was trying to make me feel better, as he always had. I got the feeling it was not going to work this time. I would never forgive myself for that. Even if it had been a mutual choice, even when drunk, we had made to sleep together; I had still called him and made him feel an obligation to come over.

“I still blame myself. You can’t win this one,” I said, smiling slightly.

“If it helps, I don’t regret coming over last night. Everything happens for a reason.”

“I guess.”

Brandon kissed my cheek before he stood up to leave. That was another reason I considered him to be my best friend, he understood me. He knew when I needed him, and he knew when I needed to be alone. I never had to tell him what I needed anymore – he just knew. That was why I was able to deal with the pain and the guilt I was feeling the way I deserved to – alone.

__________________________________________

Six Months Later

It had been six months since that night, and despite his calling me almost daily, I had not seen or spoken to Brandon. It hurt me, but it was necessary. My guilt had only increased, and it probably would never go away. What he said had held true – everything happens for a reason.

About a month and a half after, I began to physically feel as I had emotionally. I felt terrible, and nothing seemed to help it. There was not much I could eat; everything seemed to upset my stomach to the point where I was throwing up. Originally, I had thought it was the flu. When it persisted for almost three weeks though, I assumed that I had better call my doctor and figure out what was really wrong.

I had been stupid to not figure it out on my own, really. How the hell did I miss it? Was I in denial that I could have gotten pregnant that night? For fuck’s sake, both of us had been drunk and being responsible is not the first thing you think of when you are drunk. The only explanation I could come up with was the fucking flu, how stupid of me.

So, although it hurt both of us, I decided it was for the best if I did not talk to or see Brandon anymore. He had his own life to worry about. He was the lead singer of one of the most famous bands in the world, and I did not see how he could have possibly raised a child with me and continued doing what made him happy. I knew he would have tried to do both, or would have given up his career, and I could not do that to him. I still stood by the thought that it was not his fault, and therefore, he should not have to deal with my foolish mistakes.

It would be hard, but I could support a child on my own. A lot of single mothers get by decently, and that was all I needed to do. It simply meant being a lot less frivols with my money and getting two jobs instead of one. I usually did not have confidence in myself, but I was confident that I could do this. I already loved the child Brandon and I had created together – how it happened may have been a mistake, but it was the best mistake I had ever made.

As I sat on the couch, watching a soap opera on daytime TV, my mind began to wander. More and more often, I wondered how Brandon was doing. I wondered if he was happy, or if something was going on in his life that had upset him. I wondered just how upset he was about me not speaking to him in six months. I satisfied myself that the phone calls he had been making were out of concern, not missing me or wanting to see me.

Sometimes, I even thought that I should call him back, just so that he no longer worried about me. After all, that was stress he did not need in his life. However, each time I did convince myself I should call him and tell him that I was okay, I realized it could very possibly blow the secret I had kept from him right out into the open.

The truth was, though, that I missed him. I needed him. Years of denying I felt anything more for Brandon than was known were gone in months. I had fallen in love with him, and I could not deny it anymore. That was why I was so scared of losing him, and it was why I hid my pregnancy from him.

I sighed as my thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell ringing. No one ever came over uninvited unless something had happened, so I made myself get up despite knowing deep down inside it was in my best interests to stay on the couch and attempt to watch soap operas.

Before I could react otherwise, Brandon had put his arms around me. In response, I put my arms around him and I felt myself lose all control of my emotions. I was scared to death, I was mad at myself, but I was also ecstatic to see him. The question that had haunted me the most for six months would more than likely be answered; how would he react knowing that he was going to be a father? There was not exactly anything I could do to hide it at this point.

“I missed you so much, Natalie,” Brandon whispered. He kissed the top of my head before he let go of me. The tears in my eyes that had been threatening to fall had fallen once he looked at me. In a final (and futile) attempt to avoid confrontation of any kind, I turned my back to him. “Is it mine?” he asked.

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “You don’t have to help me if you don’t want to. I have it all figured out.”

“I’m going to help you raise our child,” he said firmly. “You don’t deserve to have to struggle for everything you have.”

“You don’t deserve to have to give up what you love doing, either.”

“I’m not going to give anything up, Natalie.”

“You know you’re going to have to make sacrifices, Brandon. I don’t think you realize what’s going on yet. Give yourself time to think before you make a commitment that you’ll regret.”

“Why are you trying to push me away? I already told you that I don’t regret anything that happened that night. I’ll never regret having a baby with you,” he said. Hurt was evident in his voice, and I hated myself for causing it.

“Why? You’re young; you’re living out your dream, and now all that is fucked up. Why don’t resent me for causing it? I know if I were you, I’d resent me for it. Why the hell don’t you hate me? Why are you still so damn nice to me when I don’t deserve it, Brandon?!” I yelled, turning around to face him. He raised an eyebrow at me before he moved closer to me and kissed me passionately, yet gently, on my lips.

“Because I’ll never hate you as long as I live. You may as well stop trying to get me to hate you because I can promise you that it’ll never work. You’re two years younger than me, so that’s a meaningless excuse. My dream means nothing if there’s no one else to share it with. Part of being happy, for me, is being with you. I love you, Natalie.”

“I love you, too,” I whispered. Brandon smiled at me, and held me in his arms. With that, I was reassured that everything would be okay. I would get my happily ever after that so many people dream about, but never get. Brandon would be happy, too, and our son or daughter would have the best father I could have ever hoped they would have, and I would get the best husband I could ever ask for someday. What had started out as something that I thought could ruin my future entirely would give me the best I could ever ask for out of life. A drunken ‘one-night stand’ with my best friend turned out to be the best choice I had ever made.