“How long have you lived here?”
His somber question caught me off guard and pulled me out of my head with a jolt. His eyes were soft and apologetic. Like he didn’t want to ask, but he needed to know. My heart ached for him, even now, but this time I answered. I owed it to Jake.
“Almost two months.”
He nodded, and his lips pursed. “Think you’ll marry him?” He looked at me again. A nervous flash struck through me like lightning.
“I don’t know, E… I haven’t thought that far.”
He nodded again and cast his eyes down. He was toying with his wedding band, but he wasn’t looking at it.
“What are you going to do?”
He sighed, his eyebrows shooting up as he exhaled heavily through his lips. “I don’t know. Get divorced. Move out when I get back.”
“Really?”
He looked at me with disappointment again. “I didn’t want to marry her to begin with, Syd. I’m sure as hell not staying now.”
I nodded and pressed my lips together in a sad understanding.
He stretched his arms overhead with a sigh. “Sucks. I was finally starting to accept where my life ended up, you know? And now? My life is a fucking mess.” He leaned forward and let his head fall into his hands in defeat.
My heart squeezed seeing him so stressed and vulnerable. It was something I’d never seen before. And I felt helpless because I couldn’t take it away.
“Hey. You’re going to figure this out, E. You always do.”
He scoffed.
“I’m serious. You’ve never been in a position you couldn’t get out of. And I know this is different, but you’re still gonna come out on top.” He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. “Hey—” He looked at me then. “You’re John Wayne. You hear me? John Fucking Wayne. You’re the hero. The hero always wins.”
A hint of a smile lifted the corner of his mouth before he looked away, spinning his ring once again along his finger.
“Yeah…” he said, almost to himself. “Not always.”
A silence fell over us, and we didn’t try to break it.
“Why can’t it just be us?” he asked. It was almost a whisper.
I couldn’t meet his eyes. The ache in my chest begged for escape, but I silenced it with a sigh. Even the air I exhaled felt heavy. “That’s just not the way the cards were dealt.”
“What if I wanted new cards?”
“I don’t think that works that way.” I traced the stitching of the throw pillow beside me, just for something to focus on.
“It should, though. Because it should be us.”
I looked at him, and my soul nearly broke. But once again, I silenced it, like I had grown accustomed to doing. “Yeah… maybe,” was all I could offer.
I looked out the window into the dark night, barely lit from the lights of the city below. I felt his eyes linger on me, memorizing me as if he’d never see me again.
“It’s late. I should go.” He rose and rubbed his hands together. He headed toward the door, and I followed.
“You don’t have to. It’s not that late—”
“No, it’s fine. You should get some rest.”
I paused for a moment. Torn between how much I wanted him to stay and how wrong it felt to feel that way.
