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“Come see me. Get out of Toronto for a few days. Let me take care of you,” Essie says softly. Her fingers click away on a keyboard. “I found a flight that leaves at three this afternoon and returns to Toronto on Sunday for three hundred bucks. I’m booking it. Start packing.”
“Wait, what? Don’t buy my ticket.”
“It’s an early Christmas gift. I can’t watch you fall apart from across the country. I need to see you, and I’m working an event on Friday. Otherwise I’d get on a plane.”
“I love you so much.” More tears fall.
“I love you, too. I’m sending you the information. You can cry for five more minutes. Then turn off the faucet and pack a bag.”
“Okay. I can do that.” I get my eyes to stop leaking after three minutes and prop my phone on my nightstand, talking to Essie while I pack a suitcase. Afterward, I lie on the couch for ten minutes with tea bags on my eyes to help the swelling go down. Essie has to meet with her team for this weekend’s event, and I need to get my ass to the airport, so I end the call.
On the way to the airport, I call Hammer to explain, then leave a message in our group chat to tell the girls I’m going to Vancouver, but I’m just a text away. I’m about to email my boss about working from home for the rest of the week, but she’s already sent me one saying she’ll see me on Monday and to get some much-needed rest. And then I’m off.
“I’m so glad I’m here.” I melt into Essie when she picks me up from the airport that evening.
“Me too. Tristan is an idiot.” She wraps her arm around my shoulder. “Come on, let’s go back to my place and drink wine and you can tell me what happened.”
Essie lives in a small one-bedroom apartment in downtown Vancouver. It’s fun and artsy and full of her effervescent personality. Soon we’re sitting on her hot pink couch, me hugging a zebra print pillow and nursing a glass of wine while I recount the events that brought me by plane to my best friend’s living room.
“I just don’t understand why he felt like he needed to end things now when you have the whole season in front of you,” Essie says.
“He said he couldn’t be what I needed.”
“What does that mean, though? What does he think he can’t give you?”
“His heart, I guess. He said he couldn’t be open with me the way he thought I needed him to.” I sigh. “Maybe he realized I have stronger feelings for him than he does for me. That might explain it?”
“I don’t know, Rix.” Essie taps her lips. “Maybe he didn’t tell you how he felt in words, but he sort of showed you, in his own weird way—like that cake, and the basket of veggies shaped like penises, and taking you to the maple farm. He cares about you, Rix. So whatever happened to cause the breakup, it wasn’t because he doesn’t have feelings for you.” She gives me a sad smile. “I think you’re used to being second best. Not because you are, but it’s a mindset you’ve adopted. When you were young, you never wanted to be in the way. Your brother stole the limelight, and you always stepped back into the shadows. But you were never less important. Ultimately, it’s up to you to reject that or accept it. Especially with someone like Tristan.”
My chin wobbles, and my eyes prick. I pluck a tissue from the box beside me. “He was so awful at the end. It was like a switch had been flipped, like he’d turned off all his emotions.”
Essie’s eyebrows pop. “Maybe he did. You said he was off and something had happened with his brother that he didn’t want to talk about. He’s super tight with both brothers, right?”
“Yeah. He talks to them all the time. He goes to Brody’s games, and he and Nate text every day and talk on the phone as much as you and I do.”
“Okay.” She crosses her legs. “He said something happened with Nate, the one who’s our age, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Maybe whatever happened with Nate triggered Tristan and that’s why he shut down. But we can’t know for sure because we’re not in his head.”
“I just hate that I don’t know because he wouldn’t tell me.” I let my head fall back. “Why did I fall in love with my brother’s best friend? Why couldn’t I stick to casual sex and that’s it?”
“Because he gave you plenty of reasons to like him. And from what I’ve seen, he cares about you the same way you care about him. I just think you’ve had a lot more experience at relationships with substance than he has. Maybe his feelings for you scare him.”
