“What does he do that’s good? What makes him such a great husband?”
“He’s just busy with work.”
“Too busy for his husband,” he comments. “Meaning maybe he shouldn’t have gotten married.” I just stare at him, confused why he’s going off about this when he called me here for something important. “Remember that time you brought a date to his restaurant just to get his attention?”
I remember that all too well, actually. I think about it often. Too often.
“Did you call me here just to complain about my marriage?”
“No, I have something to tell you.”
“Well, what is it? Because I’m not going to sit here and let you talk shit about my husband the entire time.”
“Maybe if I do it enough, you’ll divorce his ass.”
Bea comes back with our coffees, putting a cup in front of each of us. “Food will be out soon. I heated up your muffin the way you like, with extra butter.”
“Thanks, Bea,” Nash says with a kind smile, and she leaves us alone once again.
Nash puts two sugars in his coffee and one cream. He picks it up to take a small sip, but I can see it’s still steaming. I let mine sit—I’ll drink it black, and it’s obviously too hot.
“I didn’t come here to talk about you, JJ, but now that you’re in front of me, I can see something is going on.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not. And we promised each other a long time ago—me, you, and Hollis—that we wouldn’t let each other go through anything alone. So, you can sit here and tell me what’s going on with you, or you can leave—without me telling you what’s going on with me.”
Fuck.
He knows just how to get to me. Fucking cops. Fucking big brothers. Just…fuck!
It’s not that I don’t want to talk to Nash about this. If there’s anyone I can talk to about this mess, it’s him. I just don’t like talking about it at all, because deep down, I know he’s right. And I hate admitting that I’m wrong about something… that I’m failing.
“Fine,” I say, letting out a sigh. “Franklin called about a week ago, saying he was coming by to check on me.”
“Check on you, like…”
“I don’t know. Like I need a babysitter, I guess? And I have no idea what this is about because I haven’t done a damn thing that would warrant that sort of response. I’d just gone to see him, and he ignored the hell out of me, and now suddenly, he wants to come here to make sure everything is good?”
“But…” Nash says, picking up his coffee and pinning me with a stare that says I better keep going or he won’t be happy.
“But I have been seeing someone. Sort of.”
“Who is he?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it does. You said you’re seeing him, not that he was a hookup.”
My brother has never judged me for anything I’ve done. He may not like Franklin, and he points out his flaws and how ridiculous my marriage is every chance he gets, but if I choose to stay with Franklin, ultimately, he’ll support me. He’ll stay bymy side no matter what. Because he’s right. We did make that promise to each other all those years ago, that we would never let the other deal with something alone. Through hell or high water, we will be there for each other. Which is why I know all he wants is for me to be happy, and if that means dealing with the devil I know, he’ll accept it.
Nash knows about every aspect of my relationship. He knows both Franklin and I hook up with other people, which is just another thing Nash doesn’t understand about my marriage. Honestly, I don’t get it either. Why are we doing it? Why not either figure things out and sleep together… or let go, and do what we want?
“He’s just some guy I met at a bar a few weeks ago.”
“But you’ve seen him more than once?”
“Yes.”
