Page 103 of For One Night Only

Jane:What can I bring?

Their acceptance of my invitation is more than I expect and far more than I deserve. But because I’ve got all the ingredients for vodka sauce in my pantry, I begin preparing the meal. I even throw together a green salad and garlic bread.

My heart flips when I hear the knock on my door, right on time. I hurry to open it, trying to settle my nerves.

“Are you going to poison us? I’ve had your awful grilled cheese, and this smells way more intensive,” Keeley says. She’s got Jane and Riker in tow, and I realize they’re here as a united front. It’s them versus me, and it’s up to me to get us all on the same side again.

“Theo was an asshole, but his mother was Italian. I learned how to make this pasta from her one weekend,” I admit.

Riker cocks his head as he steps through the door. “At least you got something out of that bastard.”

Jane surprises me with a small smile. “It’s really good to see you,” she says.

“Thank you all for coming,” I say, anxiously clearing my throat. “Wine? I’ve got red and white.”

“No rosé?” Riker says, pouting.

I laugh, then pull the screw top out of my fridge. “Just for you, bud.”

“Yes!” he says. Instead of pouring it into one of the stemless wine glasses I have set out on the counter, he drinks it right from the bottle.

“Riker!” Jane says. “What if we wanted some?” But there’s no bite to it as she pours herself a glass of the chardonnay instead.

Keeley laughs. “All yours, dude.”

While they all get started on their wine and relax onto the couches in the living room adjacent to my kitchen, I go to check the sauce. It’s the perfect creamy color, and the scents of garlic and prosciutto and Parmesan hang in the air.

“If you cook like this for all your partners, no wonder everyone wants to date you,” Keeley says. “I’d put out for good Italian.”

“Noted.” I laugh.

But she doesn’t; she just purses her lips and leans back, examining me. “Are you trying to fuck us or fuck us over, though? That’s the question.”

My jaw clenches. Of course it was never going to be this easy. I didn’t expect to feed them and be forgiven. Swallowing thickly, I take a sip of my own wine for courage, then turn to face my friends.

The energy in the room is tense, and I square my shoulders. I can do this.

“Keeley’s right, and I suppose there’s no use in beating around the bush. This is an apology. I’m not asking any of you for anything—I’ve already done too much of that. But I need you all to know how sorry I am for ruining the concert, and for dragging you into a reunion in the first place with sketchy motivations. I was looking for validation in all the wrong places. While that doesn’t excuse how I’ve treated all of you, I want you to know I never intended to hurt anyone. I love you guys. And I am so, so sorry.”

“Do we have to forgive you to eat the pasta?” Keeley asks dryly.

“No,” I say, even though tears tighten the back of my throat.“You don’t even have to talk to me if you don’t want to.” My voice breaks, but I fight through the tears knowing they don’t owe me any pity, keeping my words as steady as possible. “But I just hope you all know I’m really sorry, and I’m going to work on thinking about others before I make any more impulsive decisions.”

Now, Keeley’s the one crying. “Dude, Iwantto stay mad. What you did was bullshit.”

“I know,” I say, sniffing. “It was the worst. You should all hate me.”

She huffs and swipes at her wet cheeks. “But I love you too much, you dumbass.” She rises and pulls me into a hug, and I realize it’s the first time anyone has touched me in days. I collapse into her arms and start sobbing in earnest.

“Damn it,” Riker says thickly. “Now I’m crying too. You’re all the worst.”

Blinking hard, I lift my head and glance over Keeley’s shoulder, catching Jane’s eye. Tears are quietly streaming down her face too. “Of course we forgive you,” Jane says. “I forgave you the second I saw the news about your show. What you did wasn’t okay, but I understand you were hurting too. It all made so much sense. We should have been there for you instead of abandoning you.”

“Speak for yourself,” Keeley says, still holding on to me. “I only forgave her when I smelled the pasta.”

We all laugh.

I pull back from Keeley. “Let’s eat, then.”

---