“It’s fine,” I say, even though it’s not. My voice comes out colder than I mean it to, but I don’t care. “Don’t worry about it.”
Adam doesn’t move. His eyes flick to Kenji like he’s waiting for a lifeline.
Kenji notices. He leans back, tossing his arm over the back of his chair like he owns the place. “Terrific! So everyone isgood now.” He gives Adam a smile, then looks at me. “Adam and I know each other from middle school. We’ve played hockey together for what?” He pretends to count in his head. “Seven years now. The kid’s solid.” I catch what he’s not saying out loud. He and Adam are friends. Close enough that he’s got his back should I decide to start anything. Not that I planned to. But I hear his message loud and clear and dip my chin to acknowledge it.
“I’m sure he is,” I tell him. “But like I said, we don’t really know one another.” Nothing to see here. Can we please move this shit along?
Adam clears his throat again, looking back at me. “I just wanted to clear the air. I heard what you said at the wedding and … I’m not trying to replace anyone. I just … I wanted to apologize and let you know that uh, I’m here. If you ever want to hang out or … you know. Whatever. I’m around.”
And there it is. That offer. It’s almost laughable. I tighten my grip around the beer in my hand and force my features into an expressionless mask.
“My brother died,” I tell him, raising the bottle to my lips. “Unlike my mother, I’m not looking for any replacements.”
The words hang between us, cold and final. Adam’s face falls a little. He doesn’t push it, though. Doesn’t try to argue or make excuses. He just nods, taking the hit, like he was expecting this all along.
“Alright. Well, if you change your mind, I’ll be around.”
Kenji’s eyes flick between us, but he’s smart enough not to say anything. He gives Adam a quick nod. “We’ll catch up later, yeah?”
Adam manages a weak smile and walks away. I watch him go, his shoulders tight, like he’s carrying around a weight I didn’t ask him to. The bar feels ten degrees hotter now, the noise from the crowd turning into a low hum of irritation in my skull. Ican feel Cecilia watching me, but I can’t look at her right now. I can’t look at anything but the door and Adam’s back as he slowly walks away.
“You okay?” Cecilia’s hand is still on my knee, but her grip is different now—tighter, worried.
I take a long sip of my drink, letting the burn settle in my chest. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
Lie.
The rest of the night goes by in a blur. Adriana and Kenji hit it off and Cecilia joins in their conversation. We order a round of burgers and wings, and Kenji and I both have a few more beers. I keep waiting for the tight feeling in my chest to lessen, but despite the hour that passes, it never really does.
“You okay?” Cecilia asks after Kenji gets up to use the bathroom.
“All good,” I tell her with a grin.
“Don’t do that,” Adriana interjects. “She doesn’t deserve your lies.”
My mouth tightens. “Now isn’t really the?—”
“Yes, it is,” she interrupts me again. “Whatever it is about him, that kid got in your head. You’ve given tonight a solid effort. Kudos. I’m proud of you. But get your head out of your ass. Go home and talk about your feelings with your girl. I’ll tell Kenji you guys decided to call it a night while you go get your head on straight.”
My knee-jerk reaction is to snap at her, but as her words settle over me, it dawns on me that she’s actually doing me a favor. Pulling my wallet out, I toss a few bills on the table to cover mine and Cecilia’s tab and then I tug my girl to her feet.
“Thank you,” I say to Adriana.
She gives me a two-fingered salute. “It’s what I’m here for,” she says. To Cecilia she adds, “Make him talk to you. Don’t let him bury all this shit down. Okay?”
“I won’t.”
With that, we make our way outside. Cecilia slides her arm around my waist, leaning into me as we walk toward her Jeep. “I’m sorry about tonight.”
I press a quick kiss to her temple, trying to push the guilt down. “You don’t have anything to be sorry about,” I tell her. “I had a good time.” But as the cold air bites at my skin, I know I’m lying. Because tonight stirred up shit I’ve been trying to avoid, and now I have no idea how to deal with it.
cecilia
. . .
The driveback to Gabriel’s place is quiet, the tension between us thick like a weight pressing into my chest. He’s staring out the window, jaw clenched, his fingers tapping a beat against his thigh, a rhythm that doesn’t match the calm I’m trying to find in the silence.
I should say something. Anything. Ask if he’s okay. But I already know he’s not. He’s drowning, and I’m stuck on the shore, wondering how to pull him out.
