“It’s OK. It gives me some independence.”
After deciding on a meatball sub, I closed the menu and looked up at Nix. “Harper good?”
“Yeah. She stays over most nights. I’m usually at the gym first thing before work, and so she comes with.” So, Nix still went to the gym every day. Being in the fire service would force him to keep fit.
“Is Harper still doing that yoga shit?”
“Yeah. She runs her own classes now.”
The chit chat was an example of us both going through the motions and not wanting to bring up the elephant in the room. The same one that had been there when I’d seen him at work earlier that day.
“Do you want to order now, or wait until the others get here?”
“Knock yourself out.” Nix’s reply was appreciated, as I had no patience waiting for food. And there was a reason for that, having been starved as a punishment by Louise Palmer, among other chilling things.
After I’d ordered a meatball sub and a side of fries, Phoenix dropped the S-bomb.
“Look, one of us has to bring it up.”
“Bring what up?”
“Don’t be a douche. Storm.”
Trying to keep my expression neutral and failing, I stated. “I don’t know, man. I got an invitation to the wedding and didn’t really know how to take it.” A few days after I got offered the transfer from the Giants to the Patriots, the gold-embossed invitation had been pushed through the slot of my apartment.
I had known that one day I would see news of Storm’s wedding online under the society section, but seeing their names sitting together on that card still felt like a knife to the chest. When the months had turned into years with still no wedding, I had hoped that it would fall through.
My brother's words cut into my thoughts. “You got an invitation? Fuck, that’s cold, man.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Phoenix’s expression was incredulous. “And you actually think Storm invited you to her wedding?”
“I wouldn’t put it past her,” I replied with an uncomfortable twist of my lips.
“Why? In a ‘look what you could have won’ type of way?”
I started to peel off the label on my beer. “Something like that.”
Nix shuffled forward and leaned over the table. “Nah, man. Bitch can be a pain in the ass, but she’s never been cruel like that.”
Raising my eyebrows, I pointed out. “Then who sent it?”
He pushed back against his seat. Still a fidgeting fucker. I didn’t blame him; Phoenix was big and rarely fit places. “Maybe one of the girls?”
“Why, though?”
“To point out that the clock is ticking,” he suggested wryly.
Pushing my beer away so I didn’t cause any more mess, I stated. “You’re fucking with me. Surely that ship has sailed?”
“No, Reed. It isn’t over until she says, I do.” His words hit me like I suspected a bullet would; shock kicked in along with a wave of confusion. Nix was like a dog with a bone. “That invitation, no matter who sent it, is a message.”
Yanking off my baseball cap, I placed it on the table and wiped a hand down my face. “Saying what?”
My brother’s eyes were now drilling into mine. “That you have a second chance.”
I barked out a laugh, “What about that added complication of her fiancé?”
