“She called me about six months after our blowup,” I volunteer easily. “But I was seeing someone at the time. After everything that went down, I didn’t think it was appropriate to take the call.”
It didn’t mean I didn’t want to. Shit, it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. Seeing her name flash across my screen and watch it for a torturous number of seconds before it rang out. Before the screen once again fell blank, and she was once again out of reach.
“Sounds serious,” Addy fishes.
“It’s over.” I laugh. “But I did think I was in love for a minute.”
“You weren’t?”
“Caught in a cloud of lust too dense to escape. I was nursing a broken heart after Henley rejected me.”
Addy goes quiet on the end of the line. Likely an uncertainty of what to say, of how to respond to the melancholy dripping seven thousand miles across the ocean.
“So, not the best segue,” Addy starts. “But there was a reason for my call.”
“Oh?” I stand comfortably to the side of the path, enjoying my coffee as commuters brush and push past me, their heads focused downward on their feet.
“Andrew asked me to marry him.”
Choking on my coffee, I cough. “Jesus, Addy. Congratulations. Why the hell were you letting me make small talk?”
She laughs.
“You said yes, right?”
“Of course, I said yes!” she yells at me.
“Engaged at twenty-two.”
There’s no judgment or shock in my tone. A simple statement.
“When you know, you know,” she murmurs.
Henley’s face blurs my vision.
Of course, there are feelings there. But look at us.
“Obviously, we’re in no immediate rush to get married,” Addy continues, oblivious to the dilemma of my heart. “But when we settle on a date, do you think you could trek back to our neck of the woods to help us celebrate?”
“Wouldn’t miss it, babe.”
My coffee tastes like lead, the bitter taste of regret and resentment settling in my stomach like an anchor, pulling me further into the abyss with every second.
I throw the cup into the first trash can I see, watching the milky liquid spray along the sides in its own frustration.
“I feel like I know nothing about what you’re doing, where you are, or what you’re up to.” Addy easily moves into different conversations without prelude, expecting me to follow without confusion. In person, I can see the change in her demeanor. It’s harder to do over the phone; it’s as though I’m aimlessly grabbing puzzle pieces, praying they fit.
“I send emails.” I don’t let myself feel guilt at the accusation in her tone.
“A generic email three times a year is not keeping me updated on your life. You need to join the world of social media. You’re a little late to the party.”
“No.”
I can feel her roll her eyes down the line. “It’s a way we can stay in contact while you’re conquering the world. You can post pictures and see ours.”
I remain silent.
“Henley joined.”
Sneaky little shit.
“I can’t believe I never picked up that you two would develop romantic feelings. Still psychs me out. You’re not supposed to fall in love with your best friend, Brooks.”
“We were young, and those feelings were a long time ago now,” I lie.
“Serves you right for stealing my best friend.”
I can’t stop the bark of laughter that creeps up on me. “You should really get over that. It was years ago. And the way I see it, you won out anyway. She talks to you.”
“You should call her. You’re single. She’s single. No one is going to get hurt feelings. For once, you won’t be crossing any lines.”
What she doesn’t know is that everything Henley and I do is stepping over the line. We’re torn between friendship and emotions we can’t settle on at the same time. Our love for one another isn’t unrequited. It’s forever mistimed.
“Maybe,” I murmur.
“I should go before I spend my entire wedding budget on a phone call to your best-friend-thieving ass,” Addy teases.
“I’m happy for you, Addy,” I tell her. “Really happy.”
“Thanks.” She smiles, the gesture forcing its way down the phone line.
“Brooks, you come home with us.” Koko brushes her hand along my arm as she whispers her broken English into my ear.
Throwing a shot of tequila down my throat, I squeeze her hand. “Maybe another time.”
Koko and her friend pout at me purposely.
“You make me look beautiful in my photos. We want to say thank you.”
I laugh lightly, standing and retrieving my jacket. “I did nothing, Koko. You’re beautiful all on your own.” I blow them a kiss, my cock protesting like a motherfucker as I move away from the Chinese beauties offering me one helluva good time.
Stumbling through the door of the bar, I tap my hands at my jacket pocket in search of my cigarettes. Stick held between my lips, I light it and begin the walk back to my hotel.
My conversation with Addy has been at the forefront of my mind all day.
She’s single. You’re single.
I never imagined a moment in my life when fear would leave me questioning myself. Rejection is a fickle bitch, though. I fucked up in Glasgow when I pushed Henley the way I did. What kind of fucking asshole demands that their best friend ends their relationship for their own gain?
It only took one sleepless night to realize I was a cunt. Fourteen more to work up the courage to apologize. There was no reason to have been such a little bitch about it. But she never answered my call, and that was a reality I never imagined.
Henley blocking me out.
Again.
Groaning awake, I push the heel of my palms into my eyes, rubbing the sleep from them. I blink up at the ceiling, ignoring the way it wavers. My temples throb so thickly, I touch my fingers to them, feeling my hangover thick and steady.
The alarm clock beside my bed is blank, its cord yanked from the wall. I vaguely remember doing that at
