I’d spent half of my life silently loving Eli Jenkins. And up until a few weeks ago, I would have told you with one hundred percent certainty that I would have continued loving only him for the rest of my life even if he never found out—as pathetic as that sounds. I never expected to find someone who would have me reconsidering that future, and I definitely never expected to find someone who would have me falling that hard that fast.
There was no way to prepare for Brett and the impact he’d already had on my life, just like there was no way for me to prepare to lose everything I’d had with Eli. He was still my best friend, and, sure, I could have gone on with our friendship . . . but even Eli had stopped calling. He hadn’t tried to contact me once since I’d driven away from Grind on Friday morning, and Jason said he hadn’t shown up to work that day.
“I should have never told him . . . I should have just started the relationship with Brett.”
“No. No, you shouldn’t have. Because what if this thing with Brett continues? You said he’s different, and I don’t doubt it since it finally made you tell Eli your feelings. But what if somewhere down the road you two got married, and you’re sitting there wondering what would’ve happened if you had just told Eli how you felt? What if you’d gotten so deep in your relationship with Brett only to find out that Eli felt the same, and then you had to choose between two men you loved?”
My stomach churned, and I wished I hadn’t drunk that coffee. “But in telling him all that, I just pushed him away. Not only did I force him to confirm that nothing will ever happen between us, I’ve lost my best friend.”
“That’s not true,” Kristen said sadly at the same time Jason assured me, “No, you haven’t.”
“I think it was a lot of information at once,” Jason continued. “I think you probably blew his mind, and I think he needs time to think about it. You’ve had twelve years of falling in love with him, and he just found out forty-eight hours ago at the same time of finding out about Brett. Give him time to come around; but you haven’t lost him, trust me. That guy is terrified of losing you.”
My forehead pinched together. “How do you know that?”
Kristen turned to look at Jason. “Yeah. How do you know that?”
Jason rubbed at the back of his neck before slamming his hand down on the arm of the chair he was sitting in. “I kinda talked to him about you a few weeks ago. It was the Monday after that party at your apartment when we tried to set you up with Sean.”
“Jason! You promised!”
He put his hands in the air, and looked around like I was missing something obvious. “I know I did, and I kept my promise. I don’t know why you look so freaked out, Pay, it’s a moot point now. He already knows you love him.” Kristen smacked him and he looked at her. “What?”
“What did you tell him?”
“We were talking about Sean. He was mad that I’d tried to set you up with him and told me to stop trying to set you up with anyone. Said if you found someone, then you found someone—I told him that was hard to do with him around.”
My eyes widened and my stomach dropped.
“We kind of argued over the fact that he makes sure guys don’t approach you, and that he’s always had a hand in ending whatever relationships you’ve had before. I told him I knew you were ready to get married and all that, and it kind of stunned him. He said he wasn’t ready to lose his wingman.”
I was about to cry again. I swallowed past the tightness in my throat and tried to ignore the stinging in my eyes as I waited for him to finish.
“I . . .” Jason paused, and eyed me warily before blowing out a hard rush of air. “I told him he wasn’t just going to lose his wingman. I more or less told him that your nights of sleeping over with each other, and Sunday mornings, wouldn’t be happening if you started seriously dating and got married. Then I might have told him he’d be losing his best friend.”
Jason was still as he waited for our reactions, but I wanted to know Eli’s. “What’d he say?”
“You know him better than anyone, you know he doesn’t ever raise his voice. I could tell he was pissed that I was telling him how he’d been getting in the way. But once I told him he’d be losing his best friend, he couldn’t even respond. He just looked sick. Didn’t finish his sandwich, and didn’t talk to me as we walked back to work. When I walked into his office again later that day, he still had that sick-fearful look about him.”
I’m sorry I can’t be what you need.
I now knew why he’d sounded so tortured when he’d said those words. He’d known he was losing his best friend.
I was right.
I’d just changed everything.
September 6, 2013
Eli
I WENT THROUGH the motions of putting on my tie, but I didn’t even remember getting dressed this morning. I didn’t remember much about this entire last week since Paisley had dropped that bomb on me. I went to work, ate, and slept . . . but when I’d think back on all of it . . . I didn’t remember any of it.
My cell rang from where it sat on the nightstand behind me, but it wasn’t Paisley’s ringtone, so I let it go on until the voice mail picked up.
A week since she’d thrown my world on its side, and a week since I’d spoken to her. Everything about that was wrong, but I didn’t know what to say to her—I doubted she even wanted to hear from me. I couldn’t give her what she wanted from me. I hated myself for not seeing it years before so I wouldn’t have continued to give her hope. I’d made my Paisley cry. Twice.
My phone rang again, but I just walked into the bathroom to brush my teeth. I didn’t want to talk to anyone unless it was her. But she had Brett now . . . and I was the last person she would want to talk to about anything. Not after getting the courage to tell me what she had, only for me to let her down.
I glared over at my cell when it started up for the fourth time as I walked back out of the bathroom. Moving over to the nightstand, I looked at the screen and tapped the green button.
“Hey, Mom,” I answered.
“Eli! Oh my God, Eli!”
Everything in my body jolted as her screams came through the phone. “Mom! What happened?”
“Your dad—hospital—you need—please!” she choked out between sobs.
“Mom, try to calm down and tell me what happened.” Turning around, I ran through my apartment and grabbed my keys and wallet before running out the door and to my truck as she tried to tell me about Dad.
“His car exploded at the house. I was out of the city having breakfast with my sister! He—he’s at the hospital, you need to be there for him! There’s so much traffic, and I can’t get there!” she screamed.
“Pull over until you can calm down, I’m already on my way.”
“No, I need to be there!”
“Mom!” I barked, and waited for her hysteria to calm. “Take deep breaths, he’s going to be okay. But you need to be okay too, so try to stay calm so you can get yourself there, all right?”
She whimpered and sniffled, but didn’t respond otherwise.
“What do you mean exploded?”
“Just . . . just exploded. Blew up. In the driveway.”