Chapter 43
Chapter forty-three
Duncan
Fucking Meek Car
"Gosh he's attractive." Jo says as she sinks down on the sofa next to me with a bowl of popcorn.
We're gathered together for New Year's at Felix’s after our loss this afternoon and because I apparently haven’t reached my suffering threshold, I put on the Grand Ole Opry special.
Rhys's first three songs were older ones. I recognized them. Harper belted out every word behind me as she sipped on a margarita.
But this song is new.
He shared some of his new songs with me over the summer but I don’t recognize these lyrics.
Each one hits me like a sledgehammer and I remain ramrod straight as the couples around me sway and lean closer together.
It somehow feels familiar.
I have never craved familiar and comfortable more in my life. For the last month it has felt like a protective film has been peeled off my life.
Hotel bedsheets have felt scratchy. Food bland. Even Christmas Eve at Bryson and Jo’s was a little weird. He set up this elaborate mistletoe train. E.T. had to kiss Lydia and we found out some sixteen year old kid is being scouted hard by the organization.
He’s a center, Felix’s position.
But you don’t draft a kid straight out of high school not to start him.
Christmas Day at home with my family was fine. Typical festivities, plenty of gag gifts. The league gives us Christmas Day off so I flew up to Boston in the morning, and flew home at night to get ready for practice the next day.
But I felt hollowed out inside through it all.
I shouldn’t though. I shouldn’t be moping.
Rhys ended it.
I offered to keep fucking each other.
He was the one who left.
We were great at phone sex.
Rhys was the one who said he couldn’t go back.
And now I’m sandwiched between Jo and Caroline on Felix’s sofa as they swoon over his lyrics. Each word that passes his full lips devastates me.
They sound like us.
Could he be having regrets?
I'm not even embarrassed with how quickly I would forgive him and grovel for another chance.
"No way!" Harper yells from behind us. I turn in her direction but find her staring slack jawed at the T.V.
I whip back and there on the screen is fucking "Meek Car" swaying to the music backstage with his hands over his heart.
"I can't believe Rhys would get back together with him!" Harper accuses. "Where is my phone?"
Jo jumps up over the sofa and bops Harper's hand so the phone pops up into the air. She catches it and then tosses it over to Bryson who hands it to Aiden.
"You are not allowed to text Rhys about getting back together with his ex." Jo points a finger in her face.
"Why not?" Harper pouts.
"One, he's on stage." Bryson says as I can't take my eyes off the image of Rhys singing to the crowd with his douchebag of an ex behind him, supporting him.
"And two, you've been maragita-ing." Harper's friend Wes says. "Plus, girl, that is a celebrity gay relationship. I guarantee it is more complicated than you think."
The room quiets.
The music gets louder as everyone pairs off and snuggles close.
I can only hear the blood rushing in my ears.
The crowd at Rhys’s feet erupts in cheers as the countdown lights up behind him.
All the musical acts from the night rush the stage, and I live a waking nightmare watching "Meek Car" make his way out there too. He slides right next to Rhys. My heart cracks as I watch a neatly manicured, smooth, hand grasp Rhys’s chin.
The clock strikes twelve and I crumble watching the love of my life lock lips with his ex.