Page 16 of Seeing You

“Max, you ready to go then? I’ll drive.”

“I’m parked behind you, so I’ll drive. Let’s go.”

Marcus usually preferred to be the one driving, but it seemed like a silly thing to argue about. Plus, he figured his brother was going to play tour guide and show him all the new and exciting places Sweetbriar Ridge had to offer.

Sadly, he was mistaken. They drove directly from the house to the café.

The parking lot was full, and they had to wait a few minutes to be seated. While they waited, neither said a word. Marcus checked emails on his phone and Max was staring down at his.

“Hey, Max,” the hostess said. She looked vaguely familiar, but she didn’t even acknowledge Marcus.

“Hey, Jen. How are the kids doing?”

She smiled as she led them to a table in the far rear corner. “Wild as ever! Jason made the debate team and Livvi’s starting cheerleading. All that means is that my weekends are no longer my own!” Laughing, she handed them both menus even though she only looked at Max. “Cindy’s going to be your server and she’ll be right over. Oh, and tell your dad I said hello!”

“Will do!”

“What the hell kind of service was that? She didn’t look at me even once!”

“Well…to be fair, you’re not exactly anyone’s hometown hero. You left Sweetbriar Ridge telling everyone you never want to come back and then broke the heart of the nicest girl in town. What did you expect?”

Good freaking grief…

“It’s been more than a dozen years, Max. People need to move on.”

“Like you have?” Then he snickered. “Sorry. I couldn’t resist. But I’d rather have a pleasant lunch with you than say anything that makes your face scrunch up like that.” Picking up the menu, he added, “Want to split the jalapeno poppers?”

“What is that supposed to mean—like I have?” he quietly demanded, unwilling to make a scene.

“Is that a no on the poppers?”

“Max…”

“Okay, okay. See? You’re too uptight.” Sighing, he put the menu down and stared right at him, his expression serious. “Whether or not you realize it, you’ve changed. A lot. The whole thing with vowing never to come back home because of your issues with Dad? That was one thing, and I seriously thought you’d get over it. But then there was the breakup with Billie, and…” Another sigh. “You’ve been like a completely different person since then.”

“I grew up.”

“No, that’s not it. And for the record, you were a fully functioning adult when the two of you broke up. Now, I’ve never asked for the details, and I’m still not. What I am asking is for you to take a deep look at your life and ask yourself if you’re happy. Because from where I’m sitting, you’re not.”

“What does being happy have to do with anything? Why are people so obsessed with happiness being the answer to all of life’s problems?” And yes, he was genuinely asking because he didn’t understand it. “Like…you make it like you get to just…chooseto be happy! It doesn’t work that way.”

For years, he had been happy—thought he had it all. He and Billie were in love—he thought—and working toward the kind of future neither had ever imagined possible. They werethe ultimate power couple and they used to laugh about how they were going to show their friends and families what genuine success was. But the joke was on him, because clearly, he was the only one who believed it.

She’d lied to him and walked away without ever looking back. Was it any wonder he was bitter?

That’s when he realized his brother was watching him with a combination of pity and curiosity. “Aren’t you going to say anything, Max?”

“What do you want me to say? Happiness is a good thing! It’s an emotion that brings joy and pleasure and helps with your psychological well-being! And for the record, you do choose it. No one’s saying you have to be happy all the time, but every once in a while would be nice. Don’t you miss having emotions?”

“Great. Now I don’t have emotions? Because I can tell you one thing…I’m feeling one pretty strongly right now.”

“Anger. Yeah, I know. It’s the only one you’ve been showing for years. What else have you got?”

“Max…” he said in a near whine.

“Marcus…” he mimicked. “For a guy who’s making bank, driving a sweet sports car, and living in a spectacular penthouse apartment in the heart of D.C., you’re miserable. Doesn’t that seem odd to you?”

“I’m not miserable…”

---