Bonus
“For someone who’s about to live his dream, you look like shit,” Alex said as he walked inside the house.
Danté looked down at his threadbare grey shirt and grey sweatpants, his lips pressed together. This was the same attire he always wore when there was no need to go outside. And he hadn’t planned on seeing people these days. Alex’s gaze stayed on his face, a knowing smile tugging at his mouth.
“When was the last time you shaved?”
Danté shrugged. “Probably a week ago.”
He hadn’t really cared about his looks before Alex waltzed inside his parents’ home. They both sat down at the kitchen table, sipping from their instant coffee. Danté grimaced. After years of drinking coffee from Hot Stuff, this beverage was a sad replacement. His friend’s phone chimed, and Alex gingerly looked at the notification. Ever since he came back from Russia a month ago being engaged, Alex was his old self again. Gone were the mood swings and the sadness that had eaten him alive. It had been Alex’s sadness and fear that had fuelled Danté’s resolve to not try the long-distance relationship with Evy. The loneliness, the constant doubt... Seeing one of his best friends go through that had been enough to spook him, especially since Alex and Elena both hadn’t been sure they’d make it. Now, they were getting married, and Danté had let his fears cloud his judgement.
“How is she?” he asked, swirling this sorry excuse of a coffee in his mug.
“Who?” Alex asked back, still typing away on his phone.
Danté did his best to keep from rolling his eyes and retorting something sarcastic like a certain dorky girl would have done.
Alex looked up from his phone. “Oh, you meant Evelyn? She’s fine.”
His breath hitched. Had she been able to get over him that fast? Danté swallowed hard.
“That's good.”
Alex watched his every move. No matter how hard he tried to keep his thoughts and emotions inside him, Danté was certain that Alex could see right through the calm exterior. He always knew what he was thinking or feeling.
“She’s nailing her exams.”
Of course she would. Evelyn’s future was set in stone. There was nothing and no one that would keep her from graduating and living the life she had envisioned for herself. Danté felt pride bloom inside his chest, just like it was easily replaced by regret. Maybe he should have fought harder to also have a place in that future Evy had seen for them. You didn’t give me a chance to choose you. He could still see the tears shining in her eyes when her words had found their mark. It was too late now. Evelyn had moved on. Unlike him, she would be fine.
Alex cleared his throat. “You deserve a punch in the face if you believed that so easily.”
“I beg your pardon?” Danté seethed.
Alex raised a single brow, hands clasped together. He might punch him, if he deemed it necessary. Alex wasn’t the type of person to hesitate before acting or speaking up. That had been why Danté and Alex had gotten along so quickly in college. They always spoke true to each other, no matter how harsh their words could be. Today though, it didn’t feel so good. If Alex noticed, he ignored how his words felt like acid thrown over burns.
“Evy is miserable, if you must know,” Alex continued. “She cries a lot and avoids everyone. Just like you’ve been doing these last few weeks. She misses you, obviously.”
“How would you know?”
“Jasmine told me.”
Danté scoffed. It seemed like the world hadn’t stopped spinning while his life had felt frozen in time.
“It seems like you two became great friends.”
His friend laughed. Alex rested his elbows on the table, an eyebrow raised. “Jasmine is a sweet girl. You would’ve known that if you hadn’t been simping after her best friend for years.”
Alright, that was fair. Danté had pined after Evy ever since she flirted with him, her bloody hand wrapped in a kitchen towel. Her quirks and humour had drawn him in. Then her wits and kindness had made him stay around longer than he would’ve, had she been anyone else.
At first, Danté had tried to convince himself that letting her go was the best thing to do. Evelyn could get over him. She’d bounce back. Then why did the possibility of her moving on hurt so much? Was she really as miserable as he was?
“It’s not too late to talk to her,” Alex tried.
A part of him wanted to snap at Alex, to tell him to fuck off. But here was the thing: Alex could judge character like no one else. And Danté trusted the man’s gut feeling. He abandoned the idea of finishing his coffee and dropped the mug on the table, sighing.
“When will you stop meddling in my love life?”
Alex clicked his tongue. “I’ll stop meddling the day you get your head out of your ass and actually have a love life instead of running away from it.”
A muscle twitched in Danté’s cheek as he clenched his teeth. This was not how he had planned his day to go.
Alex softened his tone. “Are you really planning on leaving the country without talking to her?”
He wanted to say that his mind was made up, that there was no point in trying and clinging to the past. But he couldn’t.
“I haven’t started packing yet,” he admitted quietly.
“Then you know what to do, brother.”
His hands turned cold. There was no way Evy would take him back. Not after he fled before she could even decide what she wanted to do. Maybe she would’ve wanted to try the long distance, maybe she would’ve accepted to go overseas with him. Or maybe she would’ve just said no. The idea alone of her rejection had been terrifying. That was why it had been easier to break things off before she could do it. There was also a selfish part of him that didn’t want Evelyn to one day look back at her life, only to realize that she had wasted her dreams on him. Danté looked up.
“I’m scared out of my wits,” he admitted.
“Good. I’d think your love a sham if you weren’t.”
“What if she cannot forgive me?”
“Then at least you’ll get closure. You both need it.”
The very reason why Alex had flown to another continent: to either save his relationship or to get closure. Real closure. Danté hoped there would be anything left to salvage.
“Be sure to shave before you go. She might not recognize you like this.”
Danté smiled, and for the first time in weeks, it was genuine. “Prick,” he muttered.
Alex clasped his forearm, squeezing gently, and winked. “Just for you, dumbass.”