I bury my face in my hands, but being alone, or being swamped with that feeling, is ephemeral. Hands touch my shoulders, palms press against my back. Around me, the screeching of the chairs signals them getting closer. I don’t have to open my eyes to know they’re near.
“They deserve someone without baggage who can bring them joy and happiness, not a broken man. I can’t even bring a full family into their lives, only more loss and heartbreak.”
This is the first time I admit it out loud—the fact I don’t think I can be enough for Natalie—and I need to figure out my shit before someone gets hurt. Admission number three.
“Hey.” Julia’s breath fans against my cheek. I force my eyelids open, confirming they’re all close, surrounding me, supporting me. “You don’t need to be perfect to deserve some happiness. And you’re not broken because you’ve been through pain. Do you think she’s broken because she lost her husband?”
“No!” I shout immediately. Julia’s face softens knowingly.
“You wouldn’t say those things about her, yet you’re here, saying those things about you.”
“Do you think I don’t deserve happiness because my wife died?” Oliver asks. This whole time, I’ve been talking about second chances and moving on, and I completely didn’t take into consideration how most of us have lost someone one way or another. Oliver’s wife, my mom, and sister, Julia’s family—Icould keep going. We’re a bunch of misfits who found comfort in this friendship.
“We’re all deserving of love, right? Even if we’re broken,” Daisy adds.
I nod. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.”
“You did, big guy,” Aspen mentions, patting my back. “But it’s okay. We love you either way.”
I smile, letting their words and comfort settle in. They’re right. I wouldn’t call her broken. She’s perfect, actually.
I would want her to be happy, so why is it so hard to give myself the same treatment? To understand, I deserve love too?
“Okay. I got it. Now, personal space, please.” They all retreat to where they were, save for Aspen. He plants a kiss on my cheek and hugs me before doing what I asked.
Obnoxious as always.
But I love them all.
“Now, when can we meet her?” Aspen asks.
“Never, if I can help it!”
“So next game, huh?”
So help me God.
I pinch my nose. He laughs.
29
HAVE YOU EVER MADE PASTA BEFORE?
To The Men That Love Women After Heartbreak by Kelsea Ballerini
Natalie
“Sorry, we’re closed!”I shout, not looking up from the last invoice I’m filing for the week. It’s been one absolutely wild week, but tomorrow is Friday, and other than Bella’s game, I have very little planned.
“Then why was your door not closed?” Holden asks, a slow smile spreading across his face as I immediately mirror it..
“Hey.” My efforts to contain my excitement are futile. I can’t help it. “Would you lock the door behind you?”
“Already done.” He stands in front of me, a white box with a pretty green bow in his hands.
“What are you doing here?”
“I missed you,” he whispers, drawing a fiery blush all over my face. He’s been a constant presence this week, even coming over to my house on Tuesday to help me paint. We ended up paint-covered, and things got really heated there for a second. He gaveme space immediately because I asked for it. I’ve come to expect him now; it’s become my normal. That doesn’t stop the giddy shiver that races through me every time I see him, though.
