Stolen Course(58)
I stumble to my den and not-so-gracefully flop down on the couch. I start to prop my feet on the coffee table but pause, hovering just inches above it. I love that fucking table, and not because it’s perfect. It’s not even my best work. It’s flawed. The polish would not go on smoothly no matter how hard I tried. But no, I don’t love that table for its perfections. I love it because I finished it the same night I called Emma for the very first time. I’m such a sentimental bastard. Well, Emma and I are torn to shit. It only seems fitting for this God damn table to match. I jump to my feet, flipping it over, and begin to, one by one, rip the legs off the motherfucker.
“I’m usually the one who breaks shit.”
My eyes fly to the door to see Brett standing in the hallway.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I shout, trying to catch my breath from the exertion of destroying the table and the surprise of someone standing in my house.
“You should lock your door.” He turns to walk toward the kitchen.
“Right. I’ll be sure to jump right on that. Now, what the hell are you doing here?”
“I brought you some scotch, but it seems you already found the emergency stash.” He grabs a beer out of the fridge and turns back to me. “So what’s going on?”
“I thought you didn’t want to be involved?” I say, leaning up against the doorway to keep myself from swaying.
“I don’t. But Jesse was threatening to withhold sex if I didn’t come over here and talk to you. I’d really like to get her naked, so if you could hurry up and spill it so I can get home, that would be great.” He tips the beer up to his lips.
“She left.”
“Knew that two weeks ago.” He walks past me to the den.
“She found out I was still actively investigating the accident,” I rush out, grabbing his beer from his hand and draining it.
“Jesus Christ, you’re still doing that?”
“Never stopped.” I look down to find a place to put the empty bottle but only find splintered wood covering the floor. I drop the bottle into the pile of scraps where a coffee table used to sit and head back to the kitchen to grab the bottle Brett brought over.
“The table?” he yells.
“Reminded me of her.”
“Gotcha.”
“So yeah. That’s it. You can go tell Jesse we talked. I’m fine. Go home and get some.” I try to force him to leave, but Brett only leans back, crossing his legs knee to ankle.
“Do I need to plan to work doubles for when you call out and rush to Savannah and try to caveman-style drag her back?”
“I don’t think so. She told me tonight that she’s moving on. It fucking sucks, but I think she’s right.”
“You think she’s right or you don’t know how to fix this?”
“Could you fucking leave now?” I ask, avoiding the question.
“Nope. Put something on the TV. If I go home now, Jesse will never believe we talked. She’ll just send my ass right back over here—or worse, come herself.”
“Oh God, I can’t handle the Jesse inquisition tonight.”
“Exactly. See if there’s anything on ESPN.”
Brett and I stare at the TV in silence, but I’ve known him long enough to know that he’s not watching it either. Finally, I say the most honest thing I’ve said since Emma ran into my life.
“She scares the motherfucking shit out of me.”
“Good,” he says, never dragging his eyes off the TV.
“Good? Thanks, dickhead.”
“Jesse scared the shit out of me too,” he admits, still not looking at me.
“Oh, I remember that. I witnessed that train wreck firsthand.”
His eyes finally swing to mine. “I’m going ask her to marry me.”
“No shit?” I ask, surprised. I always knew Brett would do it, but it still surprises me.
“Few months from now, when she graduates. I rented out the bowling alley we went to on our first date. I never thanked you for that, by the way.”
“Yeah, you’re welcome,” I say dismissively.
“Caleb, get off your ass and do something. Don’t sit there drowning. She’s in Savannah, not another planet.”
“And do what? Nothing has changed.”
“Now that part is up to you. You can continue to hate Sarah or you can let it go and choose Emma. That’s a choice you have to make.”
“Don’t you think if it were that easy I would have done it a long time ago?” I say, rubbing a hand over my tired eyes.
“Then make it that easy.” He leans forward like he just unlocked the secrets of the universe when in actuality he just said the equivalent of Nike’s “Just Do It” campaign. I can’t help but start laughing at him. He rolls his eyes and heads for the door. “I’ll let Jesse know I’ll be covering for you in a few weeks.”