Page 30 of The Try Line

He sighs. "I didn't mean to make anyone worry. I left my phone down here after… last night. And I wasn't feeling up to coming down to get it. I didn’t know what time it was."

"I thought you were just hungover."

"I didn't have that much to drink, unfortunately."

My mouth twists, but I try not to be offended. I'd wished I could blame my behavior on the alcohol, too. I wish I could blame it on anything but my own weakness.

"I think about it sometimes, you know," he says, his eyes closing again. He sounds woozy, but his features are a lot more relaxed. Maybe the medication is starting to do its job.

"Think about what?" I ask, but I'm being an asshole. Of course I know what. Because I think about it, too. Often.

"All the mistakes I made," he answers quietly. "If I'd been less of a coward, everything would have been different."

I huff, not wanting to let him see just how much I feel his meaning. If I'd kissed him that night, or even the next morning when I’d woken up wrapped around him in my bed, maybe we would have started it sooner. By that point, he'd already told me he wanted to break up with my sister. I’d known he wanted to for a long time, but he didn't want me to be upset with him. Not her,me. And he'd put himself through misery, letting Janel string him along while she pretended not to understand that he was trying to break up with her.

She knew. She told me on the phone, after I'd moved away and she was getting close to her due date. She was emotional and crying that he didn't love her, that he'd only married her because of the baby. She was in her feelings, regretting pushing him, worried she'd be trapped in a loveless marriage forever. And I talked her down, reminding her that he chose to stay with her, to be with her and raise their baby, all while I was secretly getting relief from her pain.

Looking back at that conversation, it might be my fault that she'd started demanding more of him. I pointed out that she had all the power—she had his ring and his baby. If she wanted something from him, she just needed to be more direct. He'd always been a pushover when it came to her. I'd phrased that differently, and said he'd been soft when it came for her, and I said it knowing the real reason why he'd let her get away with so much.

I never thought she'd manage to turn Mik Sanders into a buttoned-up, ambitious working stiff. But here he is, mowing his lawn at an angle and discussing the Homeowner’s Organization over brunch with his wife's PTA friends, pretending to give a fuck about what color hedges the Joneses are allowed to have.

Gone is the guy who once told off an old woman in public for side-eying my rainbow t-shirt. The guy who hated social gatherings in any capacity but would go when I needed a wingman, who wasn't afraid to take a hit to help his team score, who just rolled with the punches and rarely got worked up about anything. Now he wearstucked in long-sleeved polo shirts, pretends to be something he's not, and has anxiety so bad it gives him crippling migraines. Yeah, I Googled every medication in his bathroom cabinet. Sue me.

My eyes trace over the ink on his exposed skin, his body stretched out on the couch. I suppose she didn't completely ruin him. Under all his professional clothes and fake smiles, there's still a little of that laid back, cynical, rebellious boy that I knew and loved.

"You did what you had to do," I finally answer, repeating his own words from the other day.

"I didn't have to keep how I felt a secret from you for so long. I didn't have to let her stay that night." His eyes open again. "I didn't have to let you go without at least making you talk to me," he almost whispers.

"What was there to talk about?" I say, throwing my hands up and then dragging them over my face with a deep breath. There's no point in getting upset over it. It is what it is. No amount of rehashing the past can change it. "It was done."

He flutters his eyelashes, the flickering light catching the glint of a tear before it soaks into his pillow. He notices me watching and sits up, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Ignore me," he grumbles. "I get a little weird after I come down from a migraine. Sometimes I get the shits, sometimes I get emotional. Take your pick which is worse." He chuckles, trying to release some of the tension in the air, and reaches for his bottle of water and a few grapes.

"I think about it," I say, digging my fingers into my thighs.What the fuck, Jason?! Just keep your mouth shut, already! Let it go!

Mik blinks slowly in my direction, until the silence is too heavy.

"But I don't think you were a coward. I think you were too kind to my sister, and she sometimes took advantage of that kindness. Andneither of us said anything, because neither of us wanted to risk our friendship."

"And yet, it happened anyway. If I had–"

"There's no point, Mik. We could spend our entire lives coming up with 'what if' scenarios, but not one of them will change the here and now." I take a breath. "Obviously, we have some unresolved issues between us. And maybe we can work through some of them, maybe not. But what we can't do is go back.”

“We can never go back," I add, though quieter, swallowing a rush of emotion that attempts to clog my throat.

I stand up, suddenly exhausted and overwhelmed by feelings that I'm not able to decipher or manage. It feels like my body is being slowly swallowed by it, starting with my legs and growing up my body. It's heavy and sticky and visceral. I need to find some space to breathe before I drown in it.

Before I walk up the stairs, I pause, looking over my shoulder but not able to look directly at him.

"For what it's worth, you made the right choice. I realize now that it wasn't an easy decision for you to make, but if you had come after me, I would have made it harder." My heart clenches in my chest, and the creeping heaviness tightens its hold on me. "I left because I knew you'd do the right thing, and I wasn't strong or brave enough to stand by and watch it. I would have begged you to run away with me instead.Iwas the coward."

CHAPTER 14

MIK

My head still hurts, but it's manageable. The more pressing issue is how badly my chest aches. The bombshell Jason dropped on me before he walked away has me reeling.

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