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We hang up, and I head to my living room.

I want to talk to her. I want to hear her voice. I want to wish her good luck, but I don’t know what to say.

I grab my phone again and call her because I’m stupid and I can’t resist.

“Hello? Brett, is that you?” Rosie sounds breathless.

“Yeah. Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you. Were you getting ready for the show or …”

“No, I just got done swimming at the beach with Izzy, and now we’re heading back to the apartment to start getting ready. Are you coming to the show?”

“I don’t know. I wanted to let you know I’m wishing you the best of luck. Some stuff came up, so I’m not sure I’ll be able to make it. And we haven’t spoken in a few days.”

“Oh, I know. I was going to call you, but I was writing jokes, and I figured you were busy with your nonprofit stuff and all that good stuff.” She sounds nervous.

“You’re going to do great, okay? And if you feel like you’re not doing great, just picture me naked. That’ll make you feel better.”

“Picturing you naked is not going to make me feel better about bombing. It’s going to make me feel turned on,” she says, and I can’t help laughing. “I hope you can make it, Brett,” she says softly. “It would mean a lot to me, especially since you heard my first set and it sucked. I’d love your feedback.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Okay, sounds good. Oh, and send me the plans for Catalina, so I know when I need to be ready and exactly what’s going on.”

“Will do.”

I hang up and stare at the screen. My heart thuds as I realize I’m sitting here with a wide smile on my face.

Every time I talk to Rosie, she makes me happy. Every time I talk to her, I realize how special she is. She’s one of a kind. She’s caring, and …

“Fuck.” I groan out loud as the realization hits me.

I’m in love with Rosie.

“Fuckity fuck, fuck, fuck.”

I jump up and twist my hands together.

“How did this happen?” I mutter to myself.

I head to the bedroom, sit on the mattress, and try to take a few deep breaths.

You love her. You’re an idiot. I guess there wasn’t a stone wall around your heart after all.

I open the drawer of my nightstand and pull out a photo. It’s me and Charlie at boot camp, back when we were both bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and eager. I stare at our faces, so young, so full of life, so excited for whatever the future could bring. I barely recognize myself. That kid is so different from the man I am now.

“I met someone, Charlie.” I stare at his photo, at his wide smile. “You’d like her, I think. Actually, I know you would. Maybe you’d even fall in love with her. Her name’s Rosie. Rosie Meadows. She’s real cute. Brunette, brown eyes, beautiful. If you fell in love with her, I’d have to fight you for her though.”

I throw my head back and laugh. The one thing Charlie and I always agreed on was that if we both liked the same girl, one of us would back down for the other.

“She wants to be a comedian,” I go on. “She’s real funny. I think she could make it. And she’s sweet, and she’s loving, and she’s the best lover I’ve ever had in my life, though I’d never tell her that. I wouldn’t want it to go to her head or anything.” I swallow. “I love her, Charlie. I never thought I’d say that, and I don’t know what to do.”

I sit there, staring at the photo, almost like I’m waiting for him to answer.

“What would you do, Charlie? Actually, that’s a stupid question. I know what you’d do. You’d go for it with everything you had. But maybe that’s why I shouldn’t—because we both know how that ended for you.”

The smile leaves my face. I can feel my eyes welling up with tears. I haven’t looked at this photo in years.

“I miss you, Charlie. I miss you so fucking much, and I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you. I’m so sorry I fucked up. I’m so sorry …”