A heavy silence falls between us. The kind of silence that says this isn’t over. Not even close.
Brett looks out toward the beach, breathing hard. “He was everything to me, River. And I didn’t even get a goodbye.”
I nod. “I know. And tonight, after dinner, we’ll have a bachelor party for Alex. Just us men, and Jake can say what he needs to say. But there’s something you should know.”
“What’s that?”
“Jake was involved with a woman in Miami. Her name is Felicity. He told me it’s not serious. I believe him. Otherwise he wouldn’t have agreed to come with me so readily.”
Brett doesn’t answer right away. Just scrubs a hand down his face and shakes his head. Finally, “I’m involved with someone too.”
“Sienna.”
“Yeah. I love her, damn it. I was finally—finally—ready to love again, Riv. And now this?”
“Listen, Brett,” I say as gently as I can. “You don’t even know if Jake would be open to…you know.”
He sighs. “I know. But after all this time, I feel like it’s providential. Like he wouldn’t have returned unless there was a chance for us.”
“And Sienna?” I ask.
“I don’t know. I love her. And I love him. I’m not sure I can choose.”
“Maybe Jake will choose for you,” I say, again gently.
“Maybe,” Brett says. “But how can I give Sienna up?”
Interesting response. My comment was meant to helpBrett understand that Jake may not be able to love a man that way. Brett took it to mean the opposite.
He grimaces then. And before I can react, Brett does something he’s never done before in thirty-five years of friendship.
He cracks his fist against my jaw like a thunderclap.
EPISODE 208
LOVE HURTS
Brett
Thirty years, and we never threw a punch. Not when we should have, not when we wanted to. We saved that line like it meant something.
And I just shattered it.
My fist connects with his jaw before I even think about it. Just a clean, sharp crack of bone against bone, the kind of sound that doesn’t echo. It just lands and stays lodged in the silence between us.
River staggers back half a step, one hand pressed to his jaw, his eyes wide not from pain, but disbelief. Like he didn’t see it coming. Like I didn’t have every reason.
We stare at each other. He doesn’t hit me back. Doesn’t curse. Just breathes heavy through his nose, like he’s trying to swallow whatever’s burning its way up his throat.
“Feel better?” he finally asks, voice low and hoarse.
I shake out my hand. It hurts like hell, but not as much as everything else.
“No. Not even close.”
He nods once, like he gets it. Maybe he does. Maybe that’s what makes it worse.
We’ve had blowouts before We fought over girls, business deals, stupid shit that never mattered. But we never crossed that line. Not once. And now? It’s gone. Just like the years he kept from me.
