He’s right. Tuesday, as we’d run the other volunteers through ladder drills and SCBA maintenance, I’d tried to keep my distance. To keep things light. To protect myself.
It also was technically the day Erick and I broke up.
“Iwasgreat,” I say defensively. “I wasn’t upset. That’s what I’m telling you.”
He shoots me an unimpressed look and runs a hand through his chestnut hair, making it stand on end. “What’s going on?” he demands. “If I said or did something?—”
“You didn’t. Fuck, Rob. It’s not like that.”
“Then what’s it like? Because it feels like my best friend’s been pulling away and hiding things.” He takes a step closer, and suddenly, my office feels impossibly small. All I can smell is Abercrombie cologne. I want to breathe it in, to hold it deep in my lungs.
“I don’t—” I stop and squeeze my eyes shut.
Robbie takes a deep breath. “I, uh, had another appointment with Dr. Colburn today. Just a minute ago, actually.”
My eyes blink open at this topic change, and I look him up and down in concern. “Yeah? Did the cat clock drive you batshit again? Is that what this—” I wave a hand at the dining room. “—was about?”
Robbie’s shoulders relax just a fraction. “No. It went okay, I think. In fact…” He gives me a cautious glance. “Talking to her helped me understand what you might be feeling.”
“WhatI’mfeeling?”
He sounds so serious, so confident, I think,Please, baby Jesus, not now?—
“Ames…” He takes my hands in his and rubs calloused thumbs over my knuckles. “If you’re worried our friendship’s going to change when I get married, don’t. We’re a matched pair, remember?”
He touches the spot on his biceps where his tattoo rests beneath his shirt, then grabs the spot on my arm where my tattoo is inked. Two perspectives of the same scene—nearby Elspeth Mountain in the Perseid meteor shower—drawn by my brother True.
A perfect, permanent reminder of our perfect, permanent friendship.
Robbie’s grip on my hand tightens, and a bittersweet craving rushes up from my gut to my lungs to my throat, searing everything in its path.
I want to cry. I want to rage. I want to laugh. I want to turn my hand over and lace our fingers together, to press my face against his chest and breathe him in until this ache subsides.
But I can’t.
And seeing Robbie, earnest and open, trying so hard to fix something when he doesn’t understand how it’s broken—when he doesn’t understand thatI’mbreaking it, and that every minute he stands here letting me breathe his air, he’s my unwitting accomplice—is going to be the death of me.
I step back, pulling out of his grip. “Rob, of course our friendship will change. It already has.”
“No! No, that’s what I’m trying to say. It… we… I want to reassure you?—”
“You’re getting married. Lissa’s going to be Mrs.Wojcik. Your house will be Lissa’s house. She’ll be your emergency contact. She’ll be entitled to half of your Marvel DVD collection and half your government pension.”
“I mean, yes, but?—”
“But nothing! Jesus, Rob. She’ll be your wife, which means she’ll be the most important person in your life. That’s what a good marriage looks like.”
“But that has nothing to do with you and me.” He looks like he’s in pain.
I get it. Every word hurts me too, but they need to be said.
“It does, though! I want someone like that in my life too. Someone who’ll look at me and say,That weird one’s mine. Someone who’ll belong tome, just the same. Someone who’ll always be inmycorner?—”
“I’m always in your corner!”
Is he serious with this?I grab two handfuls of my hair and yank. “I need someone who’s in my cornerand will suck my dickwhile he’s there,Rob!”
The words explode out of me like a concussion grenade, decimating all other sound, and the silence that followsrings.
