by Sarah Skye
“You make it sound so simple.”
Nina chuckles. “It wasn’t simple at the time. Nothing ever is.”
I nod in agreement, then help her clear the table and load the dishwasher.
“Does Morgan know about this?”
Nina shakes her head. “Even if I told her, it wouldn’t make a difference right now. She needs to figure things out on her own, at her own pace. You can’t ever push her.”
I let out a laugh. “I’m well aware.”
Nina pats my arm, her expression softening. “I know things feel hopeless right now. I know you’re hurting. But you two can figure out a way to make it work. Just give her time.”
I nod and thank her, even though I’m not quite sure if I believe it.
When I finish drying my hands, she pulls me down into a hug. “No matter what happens, you’re always welcome here, Marco. You’re family.” Her voice shakes slightly as she speaks. My heart launches to my throat for the second time today, but for a completely different reason.
She releases me and I smile down at her. “Thank you. That means everything.”
I leave Nina’s with a giant container of banana pudding and a promise that I’ll be back to see her next week. I wave goodbye to her as I walk to my car.
“No wallowing at home tonight, okay?” she says from her porch. “Go out and do something for goodness sake. You’re too young to be a shut-in.”
I laugh and promise her that I will.
I down the last of the whiskey in my glass and slam it on the bartop. I groan at the burn in my throat and press a fist against my forehead. Nope. Headache’s still there, threatening to blast open my skull.
Well, this was a huge fucking mistake.
I glance around the crowded sports bar, glaring at everyone who’s smiling and chatting around me. What the fuck was I thinking coming here?
Because you promised Nina.
“Right,” I mutter to myself.
But if she could see me now, she’d be horrified at the sight: drunk after six glasses of hard alcohol, doing my damnedest not to cry or vomit as I struggle to stay upright.
It didn’t start this way. When I walked into here, I thought I’d be fine. One drink, then head home. But then that song came on the sound system.
“Style.”
It only took three seconds of hearing the opening bars of that godforsaken melody for me to lose my shit. Every moment of that night when Morgan and I sang karaoke together flooded back to me. When I blinked, I saw her standing on that stage, singing to me. When I licked my lips, I could taste her kiss on my mouth. When I inhaled, I could smell her perfume. When I flexed my hands, I could feel her insanely soft skin on mine.
I couldn’t stand up. I couldn’t breathe. I was frozen with grief. Yeah, Nina and Dr. Imana said I should be patient, be hopeful. But I can’t. Not when everything reminds me of the fact that we’re not together and I can’t do anything to make it right.
So I just sat here and drank. And now I’m the shitfaced prick at the bar who’s on the verge of tears. All because of one badly-timed Taylor Swift song.
I’m batting the empty glass between my hands when that familiar chord plays. Again.
Fuck.
I whip around and see a group of people standing by the jukebox. Tears brim in my eyes, but I blink them away. Before I can tell myself to stop, I’ve hopped off my barstool and am marching over to them.
“Hey. What do you think you’re doing?” I plant my hand on the wall to keep from toppling over.
A guy who’s my height and wearing a baseball cap frowns at me. “Playing music. What does it look like?”
A dizzy spell hits. “Do you know… just how messed up… that is? You just waltz in here and play whatever song you want? Without thinking how it could hurt someone? Someone you don’t even know?”
Baseball cap dude holds up a hand. “What the hell are you talking about, man?”
Behind him, a woman whispers to her friend as they stare at me wide-eyed.
I swallow back a lump in my throat. My tear ducts are on fire now.
“That song. It hurts people, okay? Just like I hurt people. And Gram says I should just be patient with Morgan, but it’s all my fault. She sang this song for me. God, she’s so amazing, and I love her so much. And it’s my fault, and if I were a better person we could be together. But I’m not. I’m a piece of shit, and I fucked it up because I fuck everything up…”
My face is soaked with tears by the time I stop rambling. When I finally shut up, I realize the entire bar has gone silent. Everyone is looking at me.
Baseball cap dude’s frown has turned into a pitying stare. But before I can respond or apologize, I feel a hand clap on my back. I turn around and see the last person I ever wanted to run into.
Shit.
Not tonight, not when I’m a shitfaced, heartbroken disaster.
“Calder.”
“Let’s get some air.” Judging by his scowl and the way he death grips my arm, this isn’t up for discussion.
If I were sober, I could pull away, but seeing as I’m six whiskeys deep, I can barely stand. So I stumble alongside Calder until I feel a cool blast of air on my face. He shoves me to sit on the curb, where I immediately rest my elbows on my knees and hold my face in my hands so I don’t vomit.
“If you wanna punch me you can,” I mutter. “I won’t even fight back this time.”
Above me, I hear a heavy sigh. Then the door to the bar entrance squeaks open. “Mate, you alright? What’s going on?” an unfamiliar voice calls.
“Aye, fine. Just having a chat with an old friend.”
I laugh at the sarcasm in Calder’s tone. Then I cough and cry again. And then I dry-heave.
“Christ, is he okay?”
“No.” Another heavy sigh from Calder. “Just give me a few minutes, will you, Nate? Tell the lads I’ll be in soon.”
“Hey, it’s your stag night, Cal. Do what you want. I’m just here for the alcohol.”
There’s a chuckle before the door squeaks again. I hear a shuffling noise beside me and peer over to see Calder sitting next to me on the curb.
“You’re with Morgan?”
At first, I wonder how the hell he knows about Morgan and me, but then I remember: I just drunkenly blurted my feelings for her in front of the whole bar. I groan. I’m too shitfaced to do anything other than tell him the truth. So I do.
“I was. Not anymore. She ended it.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see him shake his head. “It all makes sense.”
I scrub a hand over my face. “What makes sense?”
“Why she’s been so sad lately.” Calder shakes his head and stares forward. “I knew something was up. Just didn’t know that something was you. Fuck me.”
“You’re not my type,” I mutter.
He lets out a laugh. It’s so loud that it spooks a crowd of people walking nearby, but it makes me start laughing, too. We eventually stop and sit in silence, watching cars drive past on the busy street.
“Congrats on the wedding.”
As soon as I say it, I regret it. Even though the cool air is helping, I’m still wasted and, as a result, impressively loose-lipped.
Calder’s scowling at me like he wants to crush my skull. But he surprises the hell out of me by not pummeling my face and just saying, “Thanks.”
I nod and glance down at the concrete under my shoes.
“I suppose I owe you thanks as well,” he says. “If you hadn’t fucked things up with Lily, I wouldn’t have ended up the lucky bastard about to marry her this weekend.”
“Yeah, well. If there’s one thing you can count on me to do, it’s fuck things up.”
“Is that what happened with Morgan?”
My muscles tense at the thought of talking about this with Calder of all people.
He sighs. “Mate, I know I’m the last person in the world you want to talk to. We’ll never be friends, but I can be decent. And right now, you look like hel
l—a lot like I did when Lily broke things off with me after I came out swinging like a caveman that night you and I… well, you know.” He waves a hand.
I nod, remembering perfectly the blast of pain that rocketed through my skull when he punched me in the nose after seeing me make a pass at Lily the night before I was due to marry Harmony.
“I’m sorry for what I did that night,” I say.
“Save the apologies for Lily. And Harmony.” Calder speaks like he’s gritting his teeth.
“You’re right.” I sigh. “You probably won’t believe me, but that night changed a lot of things for me. I realized how fucked up my life was. I think I knew it all along, but losing everything—my relationship, my family, my job—put it all into focus. I’ve been trying to claw my way to some semblance of decency since then.”
“How so?” His tone is hard and pointed, like he’s not quite sure how a guy like me could be anything close to decent. I don’t blame him.
“Therapy mostly. And cutting out my toxic family. And a career change.”
“You’re not a blood-sucking lawyer anymore?”
“Still a lawyer. Just a different kind. I offer free legal services for elderly people now. Morgan’s grandma is one of my clients.”
“So that’s how you two got together?”
I shake my head and briefly explain the totally random run-in with Morgan at the side of the road that kicked off everything. When I mention being Nina’s live-in home health aide, he stares at me like I’ve grown another head.
“I wasn’t expecting that. Christ.”
“I wasn’t either. Falling for Morgan, I mean. But she’s amazing. She actually cared about me and thought I was a good person. And maybe, if I hadn’t hurt the people she cares about before we got together, we’d actually have a chance at something. No wonder she ended it.”
I bite my tongue, embarrassed at how openly I’m speaking about the most personal and painful thing I’ve ever gone through. But with this much alcohol in my system, I can’t seem to stop. God, I’m pathetic.
I cover my face with my hands and groan.
“It’s fair to say that I have every reason in the world to leave you a miserable lump on this pavement,” Calder says. “But instead I’m going to tell you the truth. I know what it’s like to have people write you off as not worth it because of your job or your past or some other bloody nonsense. But everyone is capable of changing for the better. I did. And I see you are, too. You’re different than I remember, Marco. You’re not the smarmy wee bawbag whose nose I broke.”
“Wee bawbag?” I say, my face still in my hands.
“Scrotum, mate. Scrotum.”
“Ah.”
“You’re different. You almost seem like a decent guy.”
My hands fall away from my face and I straighten up, then turn slightly to look at him.
Calder exhales like he doesn’t want to tell me this. “When Lily left me, I damn near drowned myself in whiskey and banana s’mores.”
I contemplate asking him what the hell banana s’mores are, but I don’t. It’s not important.
“Just whiskey for me tonight,” I mutter.
“Sonce?”
I chuckle that he brought up the brand he reps for. And then I retch, the sour taste of bile gliding up my throat. I gag as Calder leans away from me. When I’m certain nothing’s going to come up, I straighten up, take a breath, and mutter, “Sorry. Honestly, I don’t remember what kind of whiskey I had. I’m pretty fucked up right now.”
He nods before looking over at me. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for what you’re going through.”
“Yeah.”
We share another stretch of silence before Calder pulls his phone from his pocket.
“Let’s get you home.”
I mumble something about figuring it out myself, but he ignores me. Then he hooks his arm under mine and hauls me up to stand.
“I’m getting you a rideshare. What’s your address?”
I give it to him and he stands with me until the car pulls up minutes later. He mumbles, “have a good night then” and starts to walk away.
With my hand on the car door, I steady myself, head still dizzy. From the alcohol of course, but also at the mindfuck conversation I just had with the soon-to-be-husband of my ex-girlfriend.
It’s a conversation I never thought would happen—never even wanted to happen. But I’m grateful for it.
“Hey, Calder?” I holler after him.
He turns around.
“Thanks.”
He gives me a nod and disappears inside the bar. And then I fall into the back seat of the car and head home.
28
MORGAN
Silverware taps against china plates. A lively hum of voices and laughter fills the room. Fairy lights twinkle. Champagne and whiskey—Sonce, of course—flows freely.
And I sit in the midst of it all, cold and numb no matter how badly I want to be the brightest smile at this rehearsal dinner.
I got Lily and Calder together, technically. No, I didn’t know they’d fall in love when I suggested he take over my form model gig while I nursed Gram, but still. You’d think I could muster the decency to put my own shit aside and radiate happiness for my dearest people.
Universe, I’m trying here. Really.
Calder plunks down in the empty chair beside me as the evening winds down. Most of the out-of-town guests have retired for the night. Soon, Harmony, Lily, and I will do the same. We’re staying in a suite in the inn attached to this country club. It’s her parents’ club, not far from the orchard where the ceremony and reception will be tomorrow. Calder has his own room, of course. Can’t let the bride and groom see each other before the big reveal.
He flashes his usual grin, but I see a look in his eyes that changes his expression as he says, “You look a bit grim. Nervous about giving a speech tomorrow? I absolutely hate giving speeches.”
“Yeah, not my strong suit, but I guess I’m ready. So happy for you guys.”
A myriad of emotions walks across his handsome face. He opens his mouth twice as if he’s about to speak, only to shut it again. His brows twitch, he blinks hard—and then everything kind of collapses, and Calder runs both hands through his hair.
“Christ, Morgan, no sense in a cheeky remark or beating round the bush. I fucking know about you.”
The look he levels on me with those green eyes erases any hint of confusion from my brain. Cold and numb becomes cold and terrified. I don’t move, don’t speak, don’t even breathe much. He looks… mad? Disgusted? Sympathetic?
All three. Somehow, it’s all three.
“I… I… Calder, I…”
One broad hand flashes, palm up, to stop my stuttering. “Save it. Don’t deny it, don’t explain it. Just know that I know. And,” he adds, lowering his hand and softening his voice, “despite the question of ‘what in the actual hell’ that’s screaming in my head, I also want to scream at you for a whole other cocked-up reason.”
“I know. I’m a horrible friend.”
He laughs softly. “You’re no such thing. But y’are a horrible girlfriend it would seem.”
My jaw hits the table.
Calder shrugs. “Saw the lad in question at my stag party the other night. Never thought I’d feel anything but hatred for that man, but fuck me if I don’t feel a strong shot of pity, too. You bloody well broke him, Morgan. In a way, I didn’t think a man like that knew how to be broken. And more than that, I daresay you’ve broken yourself, too. It’s starting to show, you know.”
“What is?”
“Your heartbreak. You’ve done a damn fine job keeping it stuffed in, just like you do all your worries, but this one’s been seeping out of the cracks for a few weeks now. And sitting here at what’s meant to be a fine party with that blank look on your face, it’s definitely starting to get the best of you.”
This whole time, I’ve been sitting with my nails dug into my palms, terrified that someone was going to
interrupt us and require me to act normal. To act like one of my closest friends didn’t just drop an atomic bomb on my life.
Marco’s broken? He was supposed to keep growing. King of Cups was the outcome, remember? I’m letting it show? I can’t! I have to get through this weekend!
Calder chuckles when he looks me over. “Breathe, Morgan. You’ll solve nothing by passing out on me.”
“I’m sorry, Calder.” My voice is so pitiful, I barely recognize it.
“For what?”
“For… for… I know he’s not supposed to be in our world anymore. I didn’t invite him in. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I know it makes no sense, and that I should have never—”
“It’s for all those reasons, plus the look both of you are wearing, that whatever was intended, you’re clearly legitimately in love with him. So stop saying sorry and start figuring out what the hell to do about it.”
Lily calls for Calder from across the room. He waves at her and flashes his usual smile. “Good luck.”
“I need it,” I sigh.
He hums. “Yeah, but not for the reason you think you do. You need it to figure out how to go easy on yourself for once. Now, wish me luck. Next time you see me, I’ll be a married man.”
He laughs while I throw my arms around him in a hug. Once he strides away, I stand up and go find Harmony. We tell people good night and make our way up to the suite, where Lily joins us soon after. She twirls into the room with a champagne flute in hand. She’s wearing the prettiest white lace cocktail dress along with the biggest smile. She is so damn happy, and I wish more than anything I could just focus on that instead of how much my heart is aching.
“To you two,” she says through her perma-grin. “Harmony, I can’t believe what a friend I’ve found in you. I never ever thought we’d be close, but I am so thankful to have gotten to know you in this past year and a half. You might’ve been mean when we were kids, but wow did you turn into the sweetest adult.”
