I nodded. Jess had been doing this for him every year? “The fact that he wants to take you to Romero’s is a big deal, Vera. He hasn’t eaten there since…”
I turned to face Jess. “Do you think keeping him busy until he passes out every year is healthy? He seemed manic almost…”
She scowled. “I think you don’t get to tell people how to handle their trauma. If my best friend wants to do crazy shit all day to feel better, then I’m going to do it.” I nodded. It wasn’t my place to tell them how to handle this. They’d been doing this for years. Jess cared about Hamilton, and I knew she wouldn’t do anything that was harmful to him. She was blunt to the point of painful. Running from a conversation or an issue wasn’t her thing, so if she was willing to go to these lengths to help him avoid shit, then it must be serious.
“You’re right. So how can I help?”
Her brows shot up. “No offense, but you don’t look like the type to do extreme sports. Did you hear what I said? Rock climbing. Hiking. Paintball. And that’s just half of it. I usually need a week after to recover. He does one thing, then runs off to the next. It’s exhausting.”
“Do you not want me to come?” I asked.
Jess paused. “What? No. I’m just saying that you’ll probably hate it. I’ve been doing this for him every year since I found out. Hamilton hurts himself if I don’t. One time I was busy with work, and he drank himself stupid—nearly wrecked his car. I’m always there for him when he gets like this. His family doesn’t give a shit. They never give a shit. He sometimes would wake up screaming from a nightmare… And yeah, maybe avoiding everything isn’t the healthiest way to handle it, but I care about him and—”
I wrapped Jess in a large hug. I don’t even think she realized how her voice trembled. “You’re a good friend, Jess,” I murmured to her. She melted into my hug and some of the gruff determination she’d been carrying seemed to fade. “He’s lucky to have you.”
She sniffled and pulled away. “He’s just always been there for me. When my parents kicked me out, he was the one that helped me. I have one day in the year where he lets me return the favor. And I’m damn good at my one day, too. He doesn’t ever let me do shit for him. He doesn’t talk about his feelings. He doesn’t open up. But this is something I can do.”
“That’s a lot of pressure to put on yourself, Jess. Have you ever considered that just being you helps him? You’re best friends. He loves you, Jess.”
“Hamilton is my bro, you know? This is my thing. Our thing…”
“Look, if you want me to stay home, I will. But you don’t have to do this alone. You don’t have to feel like your entire friendship depends on one day.”
“Do you ever just feel like you owe someone your life?” Jess asked quietly. She’d curled her arms around herself and was staring at the concrete. I knew exactly what she meant. Every day I woke up, I felt like I owed my mother. “I wasn’t always this confident, gorgeous bitch that had her shit together. I once struggled. Really bad. Hamilton stopped me from—” Jess grabbed her chest and rubbed it, like the pain in her words was stewing there. “Hamilton is a good man. A tortured man, but still good. This is the one day a year where he shows his vulnerabilities, and it’s also the one day a year I can pay him back for saving my life.”
Her words were powerful, landing like a punch straight to my chest.
I wanted to hug her. Reassure her. Shoulder some of the burdens she’d been carrying, but before I could, the front door opened, and Hamilton came jogging out. Jess wiped a stray tear and smiled. “You ready to have your ass handed to you?” she asked, her cocky façade flooding her tone.
“I seem to recall beating your ass last year?” Hamilton replied while Jess shook her head. They both looked at me, and I shifted on my feet awkwardly. I didn’t think this was something they wanted me to go to.
“Well, you guys have fun. I’ll see you later,” I said before stepping forward to give Hamilton a hug and a kiss on the cheek. I was still nervous for him, but I knew he was in good hands.
“I don’t think so, princess. You better get on some comfortable clothes because it’s girls against boys at paintball, and you can’t run in those boots you’re wearing,” Jess teased while nodding at my feet.
“Really?” I asked. Admittedly, I had zero desire to shoot paint at people, but if it was what they needed, then okay.
Jess leaned over and playfully shoved my shoulder. “Get dressed. We’re leaving in five.”
22
The restaurant looked cozy and romantic. It was dark inside, flickers of candlelight the only thing illuminating every table. The walls were lined with exposed brick, a warm red color. Arched windows lined a west-facing wall, showing off the last bit of light from sunset. It smelled delicious, robust Italian spices hitting my senses as waiters dressed in all black carried platters of authentic cuisine from table to table.
“This place is beautiful,” I whispered in awe.
“It’s the same as I remembered,” Hamilton replied quietly while we waited for a table. I reached out and grabbed his
