His eyes meet Jake’s. Not mine. Not June’s. Just Jake.
No one speaks.
Then Brett’s voice breaks the silence.
“Can we talk?”
Jake doesn’t move.
Then finally—quietly—he says, “Yeah. We can.”
They step into the hallway.
I plunk into the nearest chair.
And June exhales dramatically. “Okay. Now I’m interested.”
EPISODE 219
STILL
Brett
Jake and I don’t say much as we leave the house and walk back to the beach. My stomach growls, and it dawns on me that I haven’t eaten much today. Hell, have I eaten at all? It’s nearing dinnertime.
I walk beside him, my hands jammed deep into the pockets of my shorts. Our steps fall into an easy rhythm, even after all this time. Jake walks like he’s holding the universe on his back. I feel for him. He wanted to believe the world was fair and righteous, and it nearly killed him when it wasn’t.
He glances sideways. “You’re quiet.”
I draw in a breath. “Just trying to figure out how to say what I need to say.”
He chuckles. “Granted, I’ve been gone a long time, but I don’t remember you ever having trouble saying what you thought, Brett.”
Fuck.
My name on his lips.
I remember how I used to love the sound.
I blink, thrown off. He keeps walking like he didn’t just say something that rearranged my heartbeat.
“I cried for a month after you died, man,” I finally say.
He stops, turns to look at me. “Seriously? I thought I annoyed the hell out of you.”
He’s trying to lighten the moment. Of course I mourned him. We all did. He just doesn’t know the extent of my grief.
“You did,” I say. “But not the way you think.”
I let that hang between us.
I can see his mind working. He’s thinking he annoyed me because of his commitment to justice. After all, he was always the moral compass, and I…
Well, I wasn’t.
Most of our capers were brainchildren of mine.
After a few moments, I gather my courage once more. “I couldn’t sleep after you…left. I’d stare at the ceiling and count all the things I never said.”
