I sat in my boxers watching SportsCenter, checking my phone for updates from work. Several days had passed since Jenny let me know her father was okay. I wasn’t sure how to take her text messages; so few words were typed, and yet so many different meanings could have come from them.
At least her dad was okay; that was all that really mattered. Meanwhile, I was a hot fucking mess. I’d told everyone at the office that I was out of town. They couldn’t see me wallowing in self-pity, not to mention I didn’t want Jenny to feel uncomfortable on her first day back. What if she wasn’t over what happened between us? It would’ve been a disaster, and it was just better this way.
A few takeout boxes of Chinese food stared back at me from my coffee table. I never ate late at night. Scrubbing a hand up the stubble on my face, I sighed. What the fuck had happened to me? Routine, order, structure: these were the things that got me through every day. Regimens, planning—my life was one big itinerary. Until she came along and trashed everything like the Rolling Stones in a hotel room.
A knock at the door jarred me from my self-loathing pity session. Matt walked in. His wide smile turned to a frown when he saw me lounging on the couch.
I brushed a few lo mein noodles off my bare stomach and glanced up at him.
“What?” I gave him my patented “don’t start with me” look. It didn’t work.
“Jesus.” He chortled. “Well, this is interesting.”
I stood from the couch and clicked the television off with the remote. “I’m working from home.”
“I see that. I stopped by the office and they told me you were out of town. I didn’t buy it so I swung by.”
I started to ask if he’d seen Jenny. It was the first thing that popped into my mind, but I knew I’d catch shit for it. I would probably catch shit regardless.
“Yes, I saw her.”
Fucker. This was the problem with best friends. The assholes always knew what you were thinking. I brushed his comment away with a wave of my hand. “How were things running?”
“She looked good. Happy even.” He ignored my question as usual.
A tingling sensation overwhelmed my senses. I stopped pacing around the living room and stared. “Good. Was everyone goofing off or were they doing actual work?”
“This shit is ridiculous. Stop acting like I don’t know what this”—he pointed at me and then the Chinese food on the table—“is all about. She’s going to make you lose those pretty abs of yours, you know?”
I gasped, rubbing the tight ridges of my stomach, and attempted to deflect with humor, once again. “Never.”
“You need to get your ass dressed and get to work. Seriously.”
His voice was harsh. There was no avoiding the conversation, so I dropped my stare to the floor and shook my head. “She needs some more time. I’m just giving her some space.”
“Nope, try again.” He shook his head.
“You’re a real fucking pain in the ass sometimes. Do you know that?”
“Yep.” He grinned and nodded.
“Fine. Maybe—” I glanced up at him and then back down. “Maybe, I’m just not ready to see her yet.”
“Go on.” He did that thing where he twirled his index finger in front of me, as if to say, Stop fucking around and spit the rest out.
“Look, I don’t know, okay? I don’t like not knowing. I don’t know what to make of any of this shit. I want things how they were and I want her. Is that what you want to hear?”
“Say it.”
I gritted my teeth and shook my head at him, both hands on my hips. “I am—” I looked away at the wall.
Matt crossed his arms over his chest and bugged his eyes out at me. “Get it out.”
I turned back to him and furrowed my brow. “I’m afraid, okay? I’m fucking scared of what will happen. If I see her.”
He shrugged. “Was that so fucking hard to say?”
I nodded, a slight grin forming. “Yeah, motherfucker. It was actually. Thank you for asking.”
“It’s what I’m here for.”
“Is there a moral to this inquiry?”
“I think you know what it is…” He mocked me in a falsetto, drawing out the last word.
I did and I didn’t. Why was this shit so difficult? The woman who gave birth to me was the answer. God, she fucked me up good. Who knows where I’d be if she hadn’t done what she did. Maybe I’d be married, have a family. She’d made it so that I felt I needed to choose between women and my business.
I still hadn’t found a way to forgive her, and I had tried. I tried really hard. But how could she just fucking leave? Who leaves their five-year-old kid and doesn’t look back? No birthday cards, no Christmases, no kissing my knee when I fell off my bike and scraped it. Dad had to sell his business to pay her half of the money, because she wouldn’t accept alimony payments. He was miserable in a cubicle farm the rest of his life to provide for us. I wasn’t going to end up like that. I was the goddamn one who ran the show and nobody was sticking me in a cage and chaining me to a desk.
My heart raced, blood pumping into my ears. This was why I didn’t think about her. “I need more time.”
Matt shook his head. “Nope. You need to go see her at the office. Clear the air.”
“What I should do is fire her for not showing up and not calling.”
“You’re not going to do that.” Matt snickered.
“The hell I won’t. She’s my employee, and she needs to have the same rules as everyone else!” My voice boomed off the walls of the house.
Matt walked up, so that our faces were about a foot apart. “She’s not your mother.”
“I don’t have a mother. And you’re right. She’s my employee.”
Matt stuck a finger into my chest. “You know what?”
My teeth ground together. “What?”
He turned and walked toward the door and then flipped around when he was about halfway there. “For a guy who thrives on statistics and numbers…” He did the goddamn air quotes again when he said “numbers.”
My face burned white hot.
“You base a lot of your personal decisions on one fucking obsession. Why don’t you think about that? Because you’re not being logical, and you’re making yourself miserable as fuck.”
He was right. I knew this. I’d always known this. Emotions were at play. Admitting that meant that I’d no longer have an excuse not to take action, though. Sticking to my guns was safer, less risk. I knew that Matt knew this, but who the fuck wants to admit they’re scared of a situation? Weakness breeds misery. It allows people to hurt you. I didn’t have to look past my father to know that.
“You act like I haven’t thought about that. Don’t you think I’d like to track my mother down? See her face? Forgive her and tell her everything I’ve done with my life? What if she doesn’t want to hear it though? What if she doesn’t want anything to do with me, Matt? Then what? I get to relive everything again like I’m five fucking years old?”
I glared, shaking my head.
“You think I don’t want to let my guard down with Jenny? Of course I do. But people let you down, bro. And it leaves some nasty fucking scars when they do.”
“Keep telling yourself your little story, man. I’m done trying to help.” He walked over and put a hand on my shoulder.
I couldn’t look him in the eye. Just stood there and took it, shaking my head.
“Look, I’m here for you no matter what you do.” He moved around so that I couldn’t avoid his pretty-boy face. He flashed his arrogant smirk that made it hard not to smile. “But you’re acting like a pussy. Ethan Mason is no pussy. He takes what he wants, and he doesn’t care what anyone thinks about it. I wouldn’t say this shit to you if you weren’t my best friend. So listen closely, and make sure you let this sink in.” He looked me dead in the eye, serious this time. “It’s time to make a fucking decision. Quit fucking around, quit telling people you’re out of town, shave that nasty shit off your face, stop shoveling carbs down your throat, and go handle your business.”
I glanced up and away at the ceiling, processing his words. I couldn’t do it, couldn’t face her. Every time I thought it all through, my brain told me to find a way to fire her and to ignore my dick and my heart. “Maybe you should just go.”
Matt’s face paled. We’d never really argued much before, unless it was goofing off. I wasn’t joking this time.
“All right then, if that’s what you want.”
“I’m sorry, and thanks for the advice. But I’ll take it from here.”
“Good luck.” Matt’s words sounded choked, like he’d expected another response and I’d hurt him.
That wasn’t the intention, but I’d deal with it when I was ready. Nobody was going to force me to do something I didn’t want to do. Not him. Not anyone else. I walked back to the couch and clicked the TV on.