“Damn, man. You lookhappy.”
The words strike me like a match to dry kindling, and I can feel how my cheeks flush. “Iwashappy,” I say, my heart aching when I think about how it’s all gone to shit since then.
That’s when Ben and Eric start bombarding me with questions, trying to figure out exactly where everything went off the rails. I want to tell them everything, but in order for them to understand the truth, there’s another lie I have to clean up first: the money.
Initially, they listen to my confession of being filthy, stinking rich with total disbelief. They think I’m joking, trying to pull a fast one over them. But after Marcus backs me up, telling them he was with me when I checked the winning lotto ticket and attesting to some of the things I’ve paid for over the years, their jaws hit the floor. For the next few minutes, they fact-check every instance where one of their bills was mysteriously wiped clean, and I sheepishly tell them it was me every time.
Ben even gets a little emotional when he realizes I was the mysterious benefactor who paid for his and Laura’s wedding. That long-standing joke that no one in his family would ever fess up to doing it suddenly takes on new meaning when he realizes they were telling the truth. He gets up and walks around the table to hug me, tears in his eyes.
“You don’t know how much that meant to Laura,” he says. “She’d always wanted the big white wedding but had been so stressed about how much it cost to do it that she was thinking of canceling the whole thing to get married at the courthouse.It was her dream. You made her so unbelievably happy. Thank you.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” I say, hugging him tightly.
“Oh, fuck that!” Eric scoffs. “Look. I always joked that I wouldn't tell anyone if I won the lottery, but there’d be signs. You did exactlythat. No shame whatsoever.”
“Oh, god. Speaking of signs, you should see what he just bought,” Marcus interjects.
Then comes the most ridiculous yet predictable conversation I’ve ever had the opportunity to witness in my entire life. I send them the link for the Upper West Side townhouse and watch as their eyes bulge out of their heads. Suddenly, these two grown-ass men start acting like children who just found out they’re going to Disney World. There’s squealing and laughing—far louder than should be allowed in a public setting—and they both lose their minds.
“You’re hosting every Christmas, Superbowl watch party, and random gathering we’re ever having for the rest of ourlives,” Ben croons. “Dude,what? Look at the size of that thing!”
“I’m going to come visit you every weekend, on your dime, of course, and I’m going to hang out with that 100-inch flatscreen,” Eric cries. “Can you imagine how sweet it’d be playing video games on that thing?”
“I don’t think he gets to keep their flatscreen,” Marcus points out.
“Who cares? He’ll just buy a new one.”
I roll my eyes, but I can’t help laughing. It’s the kind of lighthearted conversation that would typically bolster me up. For a minute, while I listen to them make all their plans for how they want to use this new house to their advantage, I feelgoodagain.
And yet, as soon as I have the thought, it’s replaced with a tidal wave of all the reasons why that can’t be true, my braininevitably drifting back to everything that’s stillwrong.It hits me especially hard when I recheck my phone for the hundredth time tonight and see that Luke still hasn’t responded to my last text.
I don’t know why I thought he might answer me this time. Maybe because it’s been days since I last tried, and I’d hoped he may have cooled off by now. Or maybe because some part of me still thinks this isn’t the end.It can’t be. But I don’t know how else to interpret his silence. Except for that lingering fear in the back of my mind telling me that something’s seriously wrong…
When the guys see how my face falls as I put the phone down, they rally around me like warriors prepared to battle. Things take a turn for the chaotic, and ideas start coming out about ways I can win Luke back.
“You’ve gotta treat him like one of the girls,” Eric says, the seriousness of his words muddled slightly by the way he hiccups after them. God, we drank way too much. “You gotta do a big sweeping gesture to let him know how you feel. Chicks dig that kind of thing.”
“That’s incredibly debasing to both women and gay men,” Marcus chimes in. “But he’s got a point. Does Luke like grand gestures?”
“Surprisingly, no.” I sigh. “He’s all about the drama, but not when it comes to his personal life. Subtle is more his style.”
“What if you went to his house and stood outside with a boombox on your shoulder? It worked for that one guy in that movie,” Eric suggests.
“That’s the exactoppositeof subtle,” Marcus chastises. “First of all, who even owns a boombox anymore? And that kind of shit only works in movies because it’s fake as fuck. In reality, you’d look like an idiot standing in someone’s yard with a boombox on your shoulder.”
“What about flowers?” Ben suggests. “What if you tried sending him a bouquet of roses? That always works with Laura.”
“I think this is a bigger problem than roses can solve,” I grumble.
“What if you try writing him a letter?” Marcus tosses out. “You’d probably be good at that, seeing how many books you read.”
I frown slightly as I think about it. “I guess I could try….”
The next few minutes are an amalgamation of drunken gibberish presented like gilded sonnets as the guys throw out words they sincerely believe will help my cause. Every now and again, something rather poetic sounding crosses their lips. After borrowing a pen from Chrissy (who has sporadically been listening to these proceedings the entire night with confuddled bemusement, even offering one or two remarks), I write all of their suggestions down on a napkin, hoping there’ll be something useable later.
I’m so busy focusing on writing everything legibly that I miss when my phone buzzes with an incoming text message. It’s only when I check it ten minutes later that I realize it even went off, and when I see a new notification on the screen, my heart leaps in my chest.
There’s a new text from Luke.
