From:Chris
Subject:bro??
Then Dan. Then someone else from the crew.
My stomach drops.
I open Tony’s first.
where the hell are you?
I scroll. No context. No explanation. Just confusion aimed directly at me.
I mutter to myself, low, sharp. “What the fuck?”
I type back, thumbs stiff.
because no one invited me?
I stare at the screen after I send it, waiting for something to click. Some memory. Some email I missed. Some voicemail that never came through.
Nothing.
Ten minutes pass.
Then my phone rings.
Tony.
I answer. “Hey.”
“What the fuck, dude?” he explodes. No hello. No warning. “You just missed my surprise birthday party.”
I sit back in my chair slowly. “Your what?”
“The guys took me deep-sea fishing,” he says. “Out of Provincetown. Beers. Rods. Whole thing. We’re literally on the Cape right now.”
I blink. Once. Twice.
“I didn’t know,” I say carefully. I had forgotten, Shit.August 20th.
Silence.
Then: “Bullshit.”
“Tony,” I say, sharper now, “I swear to you, I didn’t know.”
“You didn’t get the voicemails?” he demands. “We left you voicemails. Multiple. It was guys-only. Beth wasn’t supposed to know. That was the whole point.”
My chest tightens.
“I didn’t get anything,” I say. “No messages. No missed calls. Nothing.”
Another pause. Longer this time.
“Hold on,” Tony mutters.
I hear muffled voices on his end. Wind. The low hum of an engine. Someone laughing in the background. Chris, maybe. Mark.
