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“I don’t understand why you’re with someone who doesn’t even know you,” Brendan mutters.
“There are lots of good things about relationships. Being known doesn’t have to be one of them.”
“Are you serious right now?” he demands. “Name one thing that makes having to lie all the time worthwhile.”
I think about the aspects of a relationship that would appeal to Brendan. Sex is the big one, and I guarantee he’s getting a lot more of it outside a relationship than I am in one. He hands me a cup of coffee, and I hand him the first burrito.
“Teamwork,” I reply. “Like this. Working as a team makes everything easier, makes it more enjoyable.”
“How can that possibly be worth everything you’re giving up?”
“I don’t get you, Brendan.” I shake my head. “Your mom and Peter are blissfully happy. So are Will and Olivia. Why are you so convinced a relationship is a terrible thing? Because you can’t imagine only wanting one girl?”
“No,” he says, glancing at me before he turns away. “I can imagine only wanting one girl.”
22
Brendan
Three and a Half Years Earlier
Fall arrives, and the tour office is almost empty. I expected Erin’s absence to feel like a relief, but it’s sort of like that mosquito bite she wouldn’t leave alone. I’d gotten used to scratching it. I’m not sure what to do in her absence, and everything feels empty.
I know I did the right thing ending that kiss, but it doesn’t stop me from thinking about it. Every fucking night I think about it. I see Erin’s face anytime I’m with someone now.
“It’s so quiet with everyone gone,” Mike says.
I agree, but in truth it’s only her sounds I want to hear.
It takes me most of the week to come to the most shocking realization of my life: I miss her.
I miss the smell of her hair when she walks by. I miss the way she rubs her bottom lip when she’s listening to someone, the way her fingers tap any available surface when she’s annoyed. It feels like I’m homesick, with this longing for a girl I never wanted around. But I won’t do anything differently. I don’t want a girlfriend, I don’t want a wife.
Still, I find myself counting the days until Will and Olivia’s engagement party, when I’ll see her next. I want to spend the entire night by her side. Pretending to ignore her.
* * *
The party is held on a rare warm night at the end of September, out at the farm where I was raised. My mother and her husband have put the place on the market, which means this will probably be the last event held here. I’d expected that to make me a little nostalgic, but as it turns out, I really don’t care. I just want to see Erin.
My mother positions me behind the grill with way more steak than I’m interested in being responsible for. My closest childhood friend, Rob, stands beside me, fresh out of his MBA program and a summer internship at Lehman Brothers.
Anyone who knows both of us might struggle to understand how we became friends. We no longer have a whole lot in common, but we’ve always had each other’s backs, and he’s a part of almost every memory I have of high school. There’s a certain degree of loyalty you develop under those circumstances no matter how different you become. I’m glad he’s done so well for himself. He worked his ass off in school, and I hope he gets everything he wants out of life.
Well, almost everything.
I’m handing him a plate when he lets out a low whistle under his breath.
“Holy shit,” he says, forgetting the grill entirely. “Who’s that?”
I look up to see Erin walking toward my mom. She’s wearing a pale fitted dress and heels. For a moment all I can see are legs and hair, and I feel my stomach bottoming out. I think about kissing her, about the smooth skin under her shirt, the sounds she made when my hands slid over her for the first time.
“That’s Erin,” I mutter.
“The one you hate?” he asks in astonishment.
“I never said I hated her.”
“That is absolutely what you said,” he replies, his eyes still glued to her as she traipses across the yard.
