Page 139 of Forever Then

“Hell, how about we just focus on those last few months before you met Lauren.”

He stares daggers at me—an unflinching challenge in his gaze that dares me to stop him. But I don’t.

“I get back from my honeymoon and Casanova over here is all but AWOL. If he wasn’t drunk dialing me from the bar on a Tuesday night needing my help to get home, he was ghosting me. Lunch plans, workouts, dinner parties, didn’t matter.”

Hands hung low on my hips, eyes glued to the sidewalk, the shame of those few months rises to the surface. Drew’s begun with the better of the two halves and I’m certain he’s about to expose the worst one.

Still, I don’t stop him.

“There was one place I could almost always find him, though. His place, usually face down on his mattress, passed out, naked more often than not. Some days I’d get lucky and whatever girl he picked up at the bar the night before would already be gone. Oh, but there were plenty of days I wasn’t so lucky. Isn’t that right?”

I’m a statue—concrete, void of life, motionless. The impact of every blunt force hit of the sledgehammer barely registers in my senses. The real pain lies in being powerless to stop it as pieces of me crumble and shatter to the floor.

“No, on those days, I’d have to carry his ass to the shower, clean his sheets and force him to go to work. The worst days, though?” He pauses and I wonder if this hurts him even a shred as much as it hurts me. Does he even care? “The worst were the days I had to kick the girls out. What was it, three, sometimes four, women a week?”

I wince.

“Wasn’t always one woman at a time either, was it?”

The tears are back and I paw at my face like a weak child. This is it. The absolute worst version of myself on display. All of the careless and reckless behavior I fell into after walking away from Gretchen on that balcony. It doesn’t matter that she can connect the dots and know that this all happened after Drew’s wedding—that I was grieving her—because no explanation about thehowor thewhymakes it any less true.

Nobody understands what it’s like to reach rock bottom whereyou don’t want to feel anything anymore until you find yourself there. I was angry at myself, riddled with guilt and I missed Gretchen. I missed her so fucking much. I had everything I wanted and then I threw it all away—destroyed it. I was lost and I handled it all wrong.

Here I am, having done it all over again. I’ve ruined everything.

I don’t have to look at Drew, Gretchen or their parents to imagine what I might find on their faces. Disgust. Disappointment. All the things I feel about myself when I remember that time of my life. A dark period I thought I had moved on from. I thought my friend recognized that, too.

Maybe we never truly escape our pasts. Gretchen’s forgiveness or not, I don’t know how we move forward after this. You can’t un-hear these types of things. What if she’s picturing all of it? No, I’ll never recover from that.

I once thought past sins were simply stains that would fade with time, but I was wrong. They’re permanent. Tattoos forever marring our skin, painting the picture by which the people we love the most judge our character.

Pressing the heels of my hands into my eyes, I drop to a nearby bench. Elbows on my knees, my head falls into my hands.

“Fuck this! I can’t deal with this right now. Consider this my formal decline to your invitation to get drinks. Go ahead and pencil me in your calendar for the twenty-third of never.”

With that, he whips around and storms off, Gretchen crying after him, “Drew! Wait! Don’t do this!”

“Let him go, honey,” Paul says. “He needs to cool off.”

Feet shuffle on concrete, then Gretchen crouches down in front of me. The expression on her face confirms everything I already know and I look away to avoid the feeling. To delay what I now fear is inevitable.

“I think I should go after him…see if he’ll talk to me.”

It won’t work.I nod.

“I’ll come back to your place later.”

You promise?I nod.

“Connor. Will you please look at me?”

I look up.

“Iwillcome home later.”

I’m scared you won’t.I nod.

A second later, I’m forced to watch as Gretchen chases after her brother. Mr. and Mrs. Fisher say…something and pat me on the shoulder before they depart in the opposite direction.

---