“Really?” She made a show of looking all around. “You don’t seem to be doing a very good job of that.”
“This wasn’t my idea. This is all—” I stopped.
“Juliet?” Emma asked, tilting her head. “I thought so. I heard—well, let’s just say, I’m not surprised.”
“It’s not what you think.” I drained my glass once again, but the whiskey wasn’t doing much to help anymore.
“What do I think?” She sipped her wine. “Tell me, Noah. What am I wrong about?”
“Juliet. Whatever you think is going on with us—it’s not that. She’s just . . .” I waved one hand. “You know. Helping me. Hanging around.”
“Don’t bullshit me, Noah.” Emma bit out her response. “I know she’s not just ‘helping’ or ‘hanging around’.” She curled her fingers into air quotes. “And if she’s who you really want, then fine. Fine and dandy with me. But not that long ago, you were telling me that she was annoying. So you’ll pardon me if I have a wicked case of whiplash for how fast you changed your mind.”
Deacon glanced from his wife to me and then rose to his feet. “You know, I think I don’t need to be here for this conversation. It sounds like you’ve both got a few things to air, and . . . maybe I’ll go inside and get some food.”
Emma turned her head toward him, an incredulous expression on her face. “Seriously? You’re leaving me in the middle of this?”
“Oh, I trust you, babe. You’ve got this handled. Remember, I’ve been on the business end of your, uh, arguing skills before. You’ll be fine.” Deacon treated me to what I interpreted as a look of pity. “Noah. Best of luck. Might want another whiskey. For fortification, you know.”
“Coward,” Emma muttered as Deacon went inside the house.
“Aw, don’t be too hard on him.” I shrugged. “He’s a good guy.”
“Oh, I knowthat.” She whipped her attention back to me. “And don’t you worry about me being hard on Deacon. You should worry about your own damn self. Noah, what in the hell is going on in your head? Of all the people in the world, you’re the last one who I’d expect to do—” She threw her hands up. “This. All of it. The drinking, the blowing off your friends, the fucking around—”
“Hey, now.” I lifted a warning finger. “I’m not fucking around. Just because I’m not being a monk anymore doesn’t mean I’ve crossed over into man whore territory.”
“Yeah, whatever you say. But this isn’t you, Noah. This isn’t my sweet, loving, level-headed friend. The guy who’s been there for me every time I needed him, no matter what. What happened to you?”
I’d been holding onto my temper by the thinnest of threads, mostly because Emma reallywasmy best friend and I felt guilty about ignoring her for so long. But at that moment, the thread snapped.
“You want to know what happened? Fine. I’ll tell you. First of all, my wife, the woman I thought I’d love and live with for the rest of my fucking life,died. She fucking died of cancer, and she was still young and beautiful and should have so much more of life.” I sucked in a quick breath. “And yeah, that sucks. But still, because I knew what she would’ve wanted from me, I carried on. I kept on living. Then I thought I’d fallen in love again, and this time, my best friend, the woman I thought loved me, too, decides we’re not right for each other because we’re not ripping out each other’s throats every other fucking minute.”
Emma’s mouth dropped. “Noah Spencer, how dare you—”
“I’m not finished,” I spit out. “So I do the honorable thing, and I stay friends with the woman I thought I was falling in love with, the one who doesn’t want me. We’re friends, and it’s great, but she’s found this perfect love of her own, so I have to be happy for her and go to her wedding and act like everything’s hunky fucking dory.”
Now her eyes were round with surprise, too. “Noah, that’s not—”
“But you know, I still have football, and as long as I can play the game I love, I know I can keep on carrying on. Right? Because what’s my option? I have no idea. But then I get a fluke hit in a game, and suddenly, everyone’s telling me that football, the one steady and true love of my fucking life, is no longer an option for me. I can’t play that game ever again. And bonus—now I’ve got a fucked-up knee that requires hours of painful therapy. So congratulate me, Emma, because I’m winning at life. This is the celebration. Party it up.”
Emma sat as still as a statue for several beats. I was afraid that maybe she was going stand up and leave, and we’d never talk again. But she didn’t. When she spoke, however, her voice was still and her words were stilted.
“No one ever denied that the last few years have been rough, Noah. More than rough—they’ve been horrendous for you, with a few notable exceptions. Like having me for a best friend.” She leaned forward, her eyes never leaving mine. “I didn’t break your heart, Noah. If you’re telling yourself that lie, you should stop it now. We both knew we weren’t right for each other. So stop giving me the blame for this mess you’re in.”
I closed my eyes and buried my face in my hands. “I’m not . . . you’re right, Em. What happened between us was for the best. It hurt—not my heart, not even my pride, but my plans. I thought we could be happy. I thought you were my ticket back to a life I missed. But I know you and Deacon were meant for each other.”
“Yes, we are, and I plan to tell him that again after I remind him that for better or for worse means taking my side in an argument with our jackass friend.” Her tone was acerbic, but I could see some humor in her face. The nice thing about Emma’s mad moods was that they never lasted very long.
“I don’t envy Deacon that car ride home,” I remarked, smirking.
“Yeah, well, I’m not finished with you yet, mister.” She set down her wine glass and crossed her arms. “Seriously, Noah, what the hell are you doing with Juliet?”
“Weren’t you the same woman leaving me hours’ long voicemails, trying to get me to date again? I’d think you’d be dancing on air that I’m not alone anymore.” I leaned back in my chair.
“The right woman. I wanted you to findthe right woman.And you know as well as I do, Noah, that Juliet is not the right woman for you.” She looked as though she was about to say something else, but in the end, she closed her mouth with a snap. “She’s just not.”
“Sometimes someone being right for the present is okay.” I rested my head on my hand. “Sometimes it’s enough. Maybe I don’t need forever and all those promises. Maybe I just need someone like her who works for the moment.”
