Love You Through It

by Francisco, Fabiola

  It’s little things that make me miss him the most. Like the way he would lean against the kitchen counter with a beer in hand, watching me cook, or how he’d steal fries from my plate when he thought I wasn’t looking. Some days, I just wish I had his hand to hold.

  I decide to keep the football and move on to his toolbox. I’ll ask Bill and my dad if they want any of these before I give them to someone else.

  Dixie’s barking informs me she needs to release her bladder, so I open the garage door and let her out. I watch her sniff the grass and find the perfect spot. I turn around, leaving the door open, and see the mess before me. The lawnmower is still tucked away in a corner since the day Josh bought it. He had high hopes of mowing our lawn when we bought this house. I argued he’d never actually do it. I was right, but he refused to get rid of it, swearing he’d do it someday.

  I chuckle, staring at that piece of machinery. Josh wasn’t a mowing kind of guy. He was a soldier, a fighter, and the kindest person I knew. But definitely not someone to mow grass.

  An hour later, I’ve made a stack of some things to donate, and a few others to give to Bill. I’ve even scared away a spider. Josh would be proud of that.

  Emotionally exhausted, I order Mexican and fling myself on the couch as I wait for it to arrive. Liza would be proud of my progress.

  I shoot off a text message to Liv, telling her I tackled part of the garage without a breakdown and she sends back a ton of thumbs up emoji, along with praising hands. The next incoming message makes me squeal. It’s a photo of Ronan with the caption: Hot and a nice guy with an accent. His girlfriend is gorgeous.

  I zoom in and admire his face. He is hot.

  When the food arrives, I grab a glass of wine and sit on the couch, scrolling through channels until I reach a documentary about outer space. Relaxing on the cushions, I eat and watch peacefully. Having regular conversations with Liv is helping me feel like me again.

  In the last two weeks since I cleaned out the garage, I had Catherine and Bill over for dinner so I could give them the few things they wanted from Josh’s pile. They loved Dixie and expressed how great it is that I have her. We spoke more naturally than the last time I went to eat at their place. It was a struggle at first, to watch them sitting at the dining room table with me, Josh’s place empty. After a couple glasses of wine, I just accepted it for what it is.

  As I stare at his side of the closet, I wonder if I’ll ever be ready to clean that out.

  It’s important to focus on the present, so you may release the past and live wholly again. Liza’s words from our last session run through my mind. I breathe deeply and get dressed.

  Liv made me promise I would go to Riot tonight. I can’t believe Rebel Desire is still playing there. They refuse to take any payment for their performance. From what Liv says, they’re grateful to the owners and want to help them out for always putting them on stage before they were discovered by the big dogs. It’s sweet.

  I grab my beige sweater and put on my ankle boots. Fall is in full swing, and the evenings are chilly. I love this time of year. The crisp air and orange leaves. Something about fall’s energy reminds me of childhood. It could be Halloween or the leaf piles.

  Last October, Josh and I were making plans for when he returned. He already had his notice that he would need to leave in November. He promised me a future full of kids, which I compromised down to two, and a home full of love.

  I look around my bedroom—our bedroom. He truly believed he’d be coming back. How did the shock of death impact him? He must’ve had a second where he grieved leaving this life. I’ll never know. I shrug my shoulders, releasing the thoughts. Be in the moment, Bri.

  Blowing out a gust of air, I send Liv a message, telling her I am on my way to Riot and lock Dixie in her crate.

  “This place is packed,” I tell Liv next to me.

  “I know. Every time more and more people try to come. They’re already at their max capacity with the tickets they sold for tonight, so anyone extra that comes in is one too many.”

  No shit. This place is full to the brim with people of all ages excited to see Rebel Desire play tonight.

  “I hate that it gets this full,” Jen yells, her nose scrunched up. “All these women thinking they can get a piece of my man.”

  I laugh loudly. “Jen, everyone knows Ryder is taken by you. Trust me, your PDA is enough to release any doubt that he’s single.”

  “Damn straight. If not I’ll show them this.” She pushes her hand out, showing off the huge rock of a diamond Ryder put on her finger a year ago.

  “They’re going to start,” Liv exclaims and lowers Jen’s arm.

  After their set, the guys come around to the bar. It baffles me how they can openly walk around here without getting trampled by fans. Fans do approach them, but there’s an understood respect for their time off stage when they’re here at Riot.

  “You guys did great,” I smile at the four of them when they greet me.

  “Glad you came,” Cash pulls me in for a hug. “We miss you,” he whispers.

  “I’m trying,” I reply just as quietly.

  “So what are we drinking?” This from Jason, who already has the attention of the bartender. “Shots?” I shake my head, but everyone else yells yes. “Too bad, Bri. Majority wins.”

  I stay by the bar as everyone moves off to dance. Liv and Jen have become acquainted with some of the other women who are regulars. I’ve missed so much.

  “How’s Dixie?” Cole asks. I turn to look at him. I haven’t seen him since I went out with Liv.

  “She’s good.”

  “Does she still bark like a brat?”

  “Jerk.” I bump my shoulder with his. “She takes care of me,” I explain.

  “How are you doing?” His expression softens.

  “Day by day,” I reply with my mantra.

  “I’m glad. Want another beer.” He taps his bottle to my empty one.

  “I got it. Lord knows you’ve brought enough ice cream to console me.” I give him a stern look when he tries to fight me on it and finally surrenders.

  After waving down the bartender, I hand Cole his beer. It’s good to see him. I’ve gotten used to him coming around, and he’s been quiet these last couple weeks.

  “Let’s go dance.”

  “What? No.” I shake my head.

  “Come on. One song. You’re already moving to the beat.”

  “I’m okay, Cole. You go ahead. Don’t feel the need to stay by me. Promise.”

  “I know you are.” He places his beer bottle on the bar and grabs my hand.

  “Cole,” I warn.

  He smiles and ignores me. “Liv and Jen are dancing there. Let’s go.” He drags me onto the dance floor where the rest of my friends are. Jen whoops when she sees me, and Liv smiles wider than one of those Snapchat filters.

  I finally give in and dance with them, all of us together in a group. I try to sneak away after each song, but one of them pulls me by the arm and throws me into the middle of the group as they all call out and cheer. It’s embarrassing, to say the least, yet I’m laughing more than I have in a long time.

  I freeze when the tune changes to a softer rhythm. The opening notes choking me with a vise-like grip. I dash away from everyone and hear my name being called out. I ignore them and try to rush out when I feel someone pull me in. Tears have spilled unabashedly. I’m gripped in a hug as I cry. Brad Paisley croons through the speaker and I wish the DJ would just stop playing this song. I want to yell at him. Tell him to turn it off, but I’m too busy sobbing into someone’s shirt.

  “Shhh…” I then hear Cole’s voice as he rubs my back.

  He still holds me when the song ends, and I don’t try to stop the tears. I surrender to the memory of Josh and our first dance as a married couple, whispers of all the little moments we’d create together in this new phase, and his teasing that he’d always wait for me, no matter how late I was.

  It all crashes down on me in the middle
of a bar in downtown Nashville. My first public breakdown, and hopefully my last.

  “Bri?” I look over at Olivia’s watery eyes. I bite my lips to stop the trembling and let go of Cole so I can hug my best friend. She holds me tightly, soothing me like only she can. Then, she guides me to the bathroom.

  Fuck!

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  I run my hand through my hair as I stare at four sets of curious eyes. Two of those already know I feel something for Bri, but Ryder and Jen have no idea. By the way Jen is looking at me, the light bulb in her head has lit up.

  “Bro…” Jason says.

  “Shut up.” I turn away from them and order a Jack and Coke.

  “Cole,” Jen whispers.

  “Not now, Jen.” I take back the drink as if it were a shot. I should’ve just ordered that. I had to go after her. I had to fucking run and grab her. Hold her to me as she sobbed. As soon as I saw her run off, I knew this song triggered something. Then, Liv told us it was her wedding song. I hate to see her like this. It drives me crazy to see Bri weak.

  A small part is my selfishness because I want her. I want a chance with her. The bigger part is because I know how much she has to offer the world. Muting herself is useless when she’s glitter. She shimmers like a kaleidoscope or a rainbow or…

  Stop fucking thinking, Cole.

  When I turn around to face them, the only one looking at me is Cash.

  “I couldn’t help it,” I tell him.

  “I know.” He orders himself another beer.

  “Was it as dramatic as I replayed it my mind?” Sometimes we make things worse than they are when we think about them.

  “A little. More on her end, though. Don’t worry about it.” He claps my shoulder.

  “Except now Ryder and Jen know I fucking like her. And Liv shouldn’t be too far behind. She’s gonna kick my ass.”

  Cash chuckles. “I doubt Liv will. She does put up a good fight, but if you hold her head with your arm extended, that little firecracker can’t reach you.” He laughs, teasing about his wife.

  “She hears you say that, she’ll send you to sleep on the couch.” I begin to relax.

  “Nah. Besides, that’s what she gets for calling my arms freakishly long.” He raises his eyebrows and now I laugh. It was years ago when I told Liv that Cash only wins at beer pong because of his long arms. The guy is a giant, even by my six-foot standards. Since then, that’s been our inside joke.

  Now, Liv may never want to joke with me again if she figured out I care about Bri. First, she caught me visiting her, and now this. I love Olivia, but she’s protective of Bri.

  Besides, all they see in me is a man whore. In their minds, I’ll never be good enough for Bri.

  “Incoming,” Cash whispers. Olivia and Bri are walking toward us. Bri avoids our eyes, clearly embarrassed.

  “Sorry guys,” she says as she stares at the floor. “I’m gonna go. I’ll see y’all around soon.” She finally looks up and gives me a small smile. It takes everything in me not to offer to drive her home, or just follow her like the creep I am.

  After Bri leaves, Olivia tilts her head and looks at me. She remains silent. I’m the first to look away and order another drink. At this rate, I’m going to need to hitch a ride. Thankfully, Jason is my roommate.

  We all stay a while longer, but the mood has changed. Instead of all hanging out together, everyone is dispersed. The two couples off somewhere, Jason probably trying to mack it with the bartender out back, and I’m just wandering around a bar, drinking away my woes.

  Ready to go home, I step out to the patio to look for Jason.

  “Cash, what’s going on with Cole?” I hear Olivia speaking. I hold back and listen. Shit.

  “Nothing. Why?” Trusty old Cash.

  “Don’t lie to me. He likes Bri, right? I saw him tonight. And the other night he was at her house when I went to pick her up.”

  “No idea.”

  “Cash…” Liv’s voice is full of concern.

  “Relax, baby.” If I could see them, I’d bet a million bucks Cash was pulling her into him to try and distract her.

  “Don’t try to kiss your way out of this.” I hold my chuckle at Olivia’s response.

  “I just want a little lovin.’”

  Liv laughs, and I roll my eyes. He’s so predictable.

  Then, I hear, “She’s my sister, Cash.” The seriousness of her tone almost makes me feel bad for eavesdropping.

  “And Cole is my brother.”

  “She’s not…”

  “Shhh… he just wants to make sure she’s okay.” Fucking thank the Lord for friends like Cash.

  “But it’s Cole.” I tense. My lifestyle set me up for this, but my friends should know I am better than some careless prick who just fucks.

  “Yeah, and he’s a great friend and amazing person,” Cash defends.

  Before she can argue against him, I decide it’s time I speak for myself.

  “Liv,” I interrupt them. Her eyes widen as she sees me. “I’m not going to hurt her.”

  “You…” she’s speechless.

  “Yeah, I overheard what you were saying. Look, it doesn’t even matter. Bri doesn’t think of me that way, but I do care about her and want her to be okay. I know you want the same for her. Please, don’t tell her, though. I don’t want to add more confusion to her life, or lose her completely,” I add.

  “I just… I don’t know what to say. She’s delicate. She’s mourning.”

  “I know, Liv. Trust me, I’ve been there. I’ve seen her lose her shit. That’s why I’m asking you to please keep this to yourself.”

  “I should’ve been the one there for her,” Liv mumbles.

  “Hey, you have been,” Cash comforts her.

  “Damn, you really care about her.” Liv looks at me.

  “Yeah, but it doesn’t matter. She’ll never see me as more than a friend. She’s not ready for anyone else to enter her life, not like that anyway.”

  “Maybe one day,” Liv shrugs.

  “Whatever. I’m gonna go.”

  Completely sober now, I don’t bother looking for Jason. Instead I leave, wishing I could check on Bri, but knowing that isn’t the wisest idea. It felt so good to be the one to hold her, even if it was while she wailed about her dead husband. She fit around me so perfectly. For a moment, I could pretend she was mine.

  “The fuck is wrong with you?” Jason walks out to our yard and looks at me.

  “Nothing,” I bite.

  “Yeah, right,” he mumbles. “If this is about last night, just let it go.”

  Asshole. “Easy for you to say,” I say under my breath.

  “Whatever.” He walks back into the house and leaves me to my push-ups. I couldn’t sleep. Instead, I got up at five this morning and started running sprints out here. From there, my workout escalated and so did my bad mood. For no other reason than I’m tired of hiding my feelings for Bri. It’s not fair of me, I know that. However, I’m pissed at the universe for fucking bringing her into my life and making her unavailable, even when she can be.

  I plow through another set of push-ups, erasing Bri’s brokenness from my memory. Her cries were so intense last night. As much as I felt like the shining knight consoling her, I quickly realized I’m no more than the court jester, attempting to ease her moods, one joke at a time.

  I’m a fool to think I could show up at her place and help her heal so she can see how wonderful I am. She doesn’t care about me that way. She’s never going to get over Josh. She’s never going to move on from his ghost.

  “Argh!” I pour my frustration into the last push and stand, wiping my face with the bottom of my tee shirt.

  I wordlessly leave the house after I shower, and drive to the gun range. Nothing a little shooting won’t help with.

  I instantly feel better as I shoot my target on an infinite round of bullets. When I finally rest, my arms are sore. I check my phone and open up the first message I see.

  Bri: hey cole,
sorry I cried all over you last night. thank you

  Cole: don’t mention it. and no need to apologize.

  I leave the range without a response from Bri. What am I supposed to tell her? I’m pissed at myself for thinking I could have what Cash and Olivia have. I’m a fool for believing in something that’s not in the cards for me. Despite people around me having happy and healthy relationships, I may have dug myself into a deep, karmic hole, for shitting around in the past.

  It doesn’t help that I go and fall for someone who is unavailable. Idiot.

  I drive around until I see the tinted windows. Pulling into the lot, I get out and walk into the billiards bar.

  “What’s up, man?”

  “Hey, Scott.” I greet the bartender. “Whatever craft you have on draught,” I tell him.

  He nods and serves my beer before I walk over to the only empty table. I set up the game, cursing the Sunday brunch crowd that crams this place.

  I’m playing solo for a while when some long-legged blonde leans over the table. I try to ignore her, but not without sneaking a peek at her legs, painted in dark jeans.

  “Hey,” she says, acting coy.

  “Hi.” I jut my chin out and knock a stripe into the corner pocket.

  “Want a little competition?” She leans further into the table and I take a glimpse at her cleavage. She’s the exact type of woman I would have normally drilled into a year ago.

  “I’m good for now. Gonna finish up this round.”

  “Okay. I’ll be around, if you change your mind,” she purrs.

  I grab another beer and keep on playing by myself. Table for one. That explains my life at the moment—in a game, in a bar, in life. Solo. Because the one woman I’ve ever wanted to give the world to is off-limits. So off-limits that I’m up against someone who isn’t even alive anymore. I need to shake this Bri crush off.

  I’m hogging the table to myself when I see groups of people eyeing it. Fuck them. Five beers in, and I couldn’t give a shit that they want to play. My hits are slower, and it’s taking a bit more to get the balls in the pockets.