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Not even say the words.

I’m sorry, Evan.

I’m so fucking sorry.

CHAPTER 30

Evan

“You have to play in the league with us, come on,” Mikey begs me in the break room at work. “You need to do something fun, you can’t mope forever.”

At this rate, I think I can.

It’s been almost six months since I sat outside Marcus’s door in Chicago. Six months of Diane’s occasional texts that are further apart now than they were in the beginning. I honestly can’t believe she even still texts me.

My texts to Marcus have slowed. In March, they dropped to once or twice a week. Now, in late June, it’s been weeks since my last text to him, even though I still think about him constantly. That hasn’t changed, but I didn’t expect it to.

I’ve thrown myself into work more than I ever have in my life. I’ve said no to basically everything fun and social, the same type of stuff I used to live for. It’s not that I don't want to do things, but for some reason, it feels like that’s moving on. That I’ve stopped caring about the one person who might still not be laughing at all.

Mikey’s watching me with that same patient, worried expression he’s had for months, and I can tell he’s not going to let this one go the way he’s let the last dozen invitations go.

“Come on, dude. Please, we need you and it’ll be good for you,” he continues when I don’t respond.

“What sport?”

“It’s a co-ed volleyball league. It’s July and August. It’s going to be fun.”

I almost say no, but then I think about how this could be a good distraction from my empty apartment, my silent phone, from the way I miss Marcus. I haven’t allowed myself to enjoy anything all year, and I think it’s probably time to move on.

“Yeah,” I hear myself say. “Sounds good.” Even though I don’t think it does.

Mikey grins. “Awesome. The first game is the 9th. I’ll send you the details.”

After he leaves, I drop my hands against the breakroom table and let out a breath. I don’t want to play volleyball, but I’m saying yes because these last few months have been unbearable with missing him.

Maybe, if I fill my life with enough noise and activity and distraction, I’ll stop checking my phone every five minutes. Maybe some days will hurt a little less than others, even if I don’t believe the ache will ever truly leave.

July 9th

The first volleyball game is fun. I’ve never played before so I’m not very good and I find myself laughing more than I have in a long time. It doesn’t feel forced either, so that feels like a win.

“Anyone want to get drinks?” Kenny asks us.

Everyone says yes, so I do too. It’s probably good to get to know all of my teammates, and I have nothing to do in my apartment besides obsess over Marcus.

I still haven’t heard from him. Not that I was suddenly expecting a response after half a year of silence.

At the bar, one of my teammates sits down to introduce herself. Her name is Callie and she’s got a long blonde ponytail and she’s very pretty. Marcus is a blond. We end up talking for a bit. She works in marketing, moved to Seattle three years ago from Portland, loves hiking and reality TV. She’s funny and warm.

When we part ways, she says, “See you next week.”

“See ya.”

I drive home and compare her to Marcus the entire time.

July 10th

The entire day I feel guilty for talking and laughing with someone who wasn’t Marcus. It’s a silly thing to feel guilty about. We’re not together, not really. I don’t think you can be together with someone who hasn’t spoken to you in months.