Andre pats me on the back. “Relationships aren’t easy.”
“All the time, though?”
“What do you mean?” Paul asks.
“I mean… can they ever be?”
Again, they share a look. “Yeah, they definitely can,” Paul says with a soft smile.
“It just takes a lot of work and communication.”
“How do you make someone communicate? I mean, not like in the relationship, but outside of it?”
“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” Andre says.
“Like… letting other people know you’re in a relationship with someone. How do you make the other person comfortable with that?”
Andre smirks. “It’s not always something you can do, other than supporting them. And hopefully, the people you tell will also support them.”
He puts his hand on my arm, pulling me to the side and out of the way of the crowd so we can stop.
“Is there something you want to talk about?” he asks.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to spill everything. Holding it all in has not been great, and knowing I’m a block away from seeing Trey? I should tell them. Maybe it’ll help with the nerves that are creeping up on me.
“It’s a long story,” I say.
“We have some time, Hudson. If there’s something you need to talk about, you can tell us. We have—” He looks at his watch. “A whole forty-five minutes before the ceremony starts and our walk is less than ten minutes.”
“Okay, uh…” I look around, stepping out of the way of a rushing man who almost bumps right into me.
“Here,” Paul says, tugging on my arm again. We step into the nearest hotel lobby, and I follow him and Andre to the lounge area. It’s quiet, with only a few people at the bar.
“Do you want a drink?” Andre asks me and Paul.
“That would be great,” I say. “Anything with vodka.”
He goes to the bar and brings me back a cranberry and vodka, and hands Paul something entirely different. Something he didn’t ask for, yet smiles gratefully for.
Andre sits with his drink, something like an Old Fashioned, I’d guess by the color.
“What’s going on, Hudson?” he asks.
I sigh, taking a few gulps of my drink. “This is probably going to sound crazy, and maybe he’s going to get mad at me for saying something, but I’m tired of holding it in.”
“So tell us,” Paul says. “We won’t say anything.”
Out of all of our friends, Paul and Andre feel the most put together. They were married with kids. They have steady jobs and normal lives.
“You have to swear you won’t say anything,” I say, looking at both of them.
“We won’t,” they say in unison.
I nod and take the last sip of my drink.
“Trey and I just broke up.”
“Trey and you…” Paul says carefully. “Oh. Wow. I’m sorry, Hudson.”
