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No one mentioned my slip; how inappropriate it was to demand liberties that weren’t mine. The anger and possessiveness in my immediate reaction stopped me cold.
This was not the way a brother figure felt. Acted.
I needed to remind myself that this was Bailey. Emily’s best friend Bailey.
That I couldn’t see her that way. Had fought everything within me not to.
She was the same sweet girl I once saw as a sister. She’s not so little anymore. Completely legal.
Our eyes met once more, and the floor beneath my feet shifted. Things had changed. This couldn’t be happening again.
This was not good. For either of us.
Fuck.
***
Chapter 2:
Four Years Ago
LETTING SOMEONE GO was never easy, but sometimes an unfortunate necessity.
An unavoidable evil. It left a bitter taste in your mouth and tore you apart from the inside. Your stability was taken—rocked by knowing that they’d no longer be a part of your normal.
Moreover, because it was the right thing to do, tonight, I let her go.
Erica and I weren’t in love. It was more like we tolerated the other. We used each other; scratched the itch whenever we wanted. What we shared was not exciting or all consuming; it was just the comfortable knowledge of having someone.
No pretenses or bullshit acts of foolish love. We just were. For years we just were.
The perfect “it” couple to everyone on the outside.
High-school sweethearts.
Prom king and queen—the envy of everyone in our school. It was expected that we’d always be together.
No one knew the truth. No one ever would.
And now she’s gone. Would soon be on her way to college in Tennessee.
Pulling into the curb, I turned the car off, got out, and then walked around back. I settled on an Adirondack chair, it groaned under my weight, legs scraping against the terra-cotta tiles around our pool.
Silence surrounded me. Drowned me.
My thoughts were running an endless marathon. Everything I knew and was accustomed to was no more. Tomorrow everything would change:
Where I lived. Slept. Who I fucked.
Every. Damn. Thing.
For some reason that bothered me, and not because I suddenly realized that I cared for Erica. Because I didn’t. Not in that capacity.
This restlessness I felt was about more than her. My frustration was due to the why that evaded me.
Why did I feel miserable, instead of excited?
Why was there a deep pang inside my chest?
