57. Choking on red pills and grief #3
“He was, baby. You just didn’t notice.” I admit, “I felt like… my head was all over the place. Before I left, I told you that I wanted you to have fun and if that fun meant exploring… you know. And all I wanted was to fly over to Spain so I could sit you on my lap and let every fucker in a ten-mile radius know you’re already taken.
“Then I felt like shit. I was going back on what I’d said you were free to do. And I remembered how jealous Dad used to get with Mom and she never did anything to deserve it, and it freaked me out. Then, I was terrified you were going to go with that guy and realize how much of a fuckup I am and—”
“You spiraled.”
My throat bobs. “Yeah. I don’t want to lose you, D. This relationship was the riskiest thing I’ve ever done because it put us at risk. If I fuck this up, you’ll never talk to me again. And I can’t live without Friend Denny or Girlfriend Denny and—”
“You won’t have to,” she croons.
“I’ll fuck up!”
“You think I won’t? We all make mistakes. It’s how you get past them that defines us. Look, sweetheart, this is all new for us. We’re so new in this format. But that doesn’t take away the past decade and a half of friendship.
“If we ever break up, it’ll suck. And there’ll be a time where we won’t want to talk to each other, but we’ll bring it back in because one, Pecan will make us, and two, I think Callan will knock our heads together, and three, we need each other. That’s how we’ve always rolled.”
“Do you promise?”
“I cross my heart and hope to die. I-I don’t think…
The future’s wild and crazy, but I can’t see us…
I’ll always want you, Zach. Need you…” She swallows.
Pauses. Hesitates. I only don’t say anything because her bottom lip quivers and her eyes are wild as she stares at me.
I can see it in her expression, read it in her eyes, and just as I’m about to break, she whispers, “Love you.”
My shoulders sag, the relief hitting me square in the chest. My heart both slows and speeds up, and this right here is so much better than winning a game. I bet it doesn’t even compare to lifting the Stanley Cup.
“Y-Y-You do?” I stutter.
“I do. I love you. Not just Zach, my friend, but Zach. You.”
“I love you too, Denver.” I lick my lips. “I have for years and I was too much of a dumbass to figure it out.”
“Hey, you’re the reason we’re here. Now. So you weren’t too dumb.”
Blushing, I close my eyes. “I don’t want to do this fucked-up thing called life without you, D. These past four weeks have been shit. I miss you so much and I’m not supposed to.
“I’m supposed to dig being away from you, getting some freedom in so I can chill out with my friends and party with the team, but I’m so busy looking at my watch, wondering what you’re doing and why you’re not here with me that I can’t enjoy myself.”
Her lips form the softest of smiles. “Two more weeks, carino.”
“I know. Two more weeks.”
She twists on the bed, and I hear the sound of a drawer opening and closing. The phone’s juggled in her hold and I get the feeling she stacked me between her thighs.
What I wouldn’t give to be—
“Denny?” I croak when I realize what’s in her hand.
She opens the box I gave her before I left and shows me the ring I picked out.
My eyes widen. “You don’t have to, baby—”
“I do. Because I am yours and people should know that when they’re talking to me. I didn’t realize JP was coming on to me, but it was unwanted. I’ve no interest in fucking someone else that’s not you. I’m not other women,” she snipes.
“Look, earlier was a bad time. I’d just gotten off the phone with my dad.
We had this weird argument and I let all the past resentment flow out of me.
Maybe I can understand some of his motivations, but maybe I also can’t.
I don’t want to be like him. I realized today that he’s still chasing for more.
But I don’t have to chase anything. The person I want is staring back at me.
I’m not too dumb to recognize that or to let him go. ”
When she slips on my ring, it feels like I can take my first breath in four weeks.
Which is bullshit.
“I’m sorry, babe.”
She pauses mid-admiring the ring. “What for?”
“That we live in a messed-up society where rings on fingers are a claim that men recognize.”
Denny blinks then coos, “That, Zachary Bradley, is one of the many reasons why I love you.”
There are those fucking words again! “I’m a dumbass.”
“My dumbass.”
“I’m shit with feelings.”
She wafts a hand. “Aren’t we both?”
“True.”
“We need to talk about your mom more. You can’t be bottling this stuff up inside, Zach. It’ll make you explode one day.”
“I know.” I stare at my feet. “It’s not fair for you to have to deal with my temper.”
“You definitely need a healthier release.”
“I like coming in you.”
“I like it too,” she drawls. “Two weeks.”
I gust out my cheeks. “Two weeks. I can do this.”
She blows me a kiss. “We can do this.”
“D?”
“Yes, baby.”
“The ring… no pressure. You know that, right?”
She nods. “I know that.”
“I mean… you wanna go to Vegas like your mom tomorrow, we can,” I say in a rush. “I can buy the tickets right now.”
That has her chuckling. “Maybe not tomorrow, but someday.”
Hope filters through me, making my shoulders drop with relief as I sag back in my chair and look at the love of my life, my best friend in the whole world, as she blinks watery eyes at me from her bed in Spain. “Yeah?”
Her smile grows as she rubs her thumb over the diamond solitaire I bought her. “Yeah.”
“D?”
“What?”
“You wanna talk about your dad?”
“You sure you want to? It’s a clusterfuck.”
“Then it’s our clusterfuck.”
She slumps into the pillows because she can’t tumble into my arms and offloads about her dad and his past and how she kept visiting her grandmother’s one-time home from me.
And as I look at her, as I listen to her, as I absorb what she has to say, I make her a silent promise. No churches needed. No priests or witnesses, either.
In sickness and in health.
Unlike my dad.
Until death do us part.
Unlike hers.