Page 58 of Returning Your Love
He stood and went for his wallet, but I clasped his wrist to stop him. “I’ve got it.”
I tossed a couple of twenties onto the bar, called a “see ya later” to Iris, and followed Chaz out the door.
Stars hung low in the cold air, a million pinpricks flooding across the expanse overhead, disappearing behind the mountains to the south. My breath fogged on a deep exhale of thankfulness for Chaz taking a step in the right direction in allowing someone to be a part of his life. Thank fuck it was me.
“Hop in,” I told him, motioning toward my SUV in the front parking spot.
“I’m okay to drive,” he muttered.
“The fuck you are. It might only be a mile down the road to your house, but you slammed back four shots and one beer all in a matter of what? Twenty minutes? We’ll get your truck tomorrow.”
He climbed into my passenger seat, and we drove in silence to the southernmost end of town. My heart beat heavy the entire time simply from being with him. The close proximity was right in ways nothing else ever had been.
Chaz was it for me. Always had been, always would be.
Telling myself I could be as patient as necessary, that I would honor his boundaries, I pulled into his empty driveway, determined to keep shit on friend level rather than lust and fucking.
Chaz and Shelly had bought a small ranch-style home, and when we walked through the side door into the kitchen, rather than smelling like lemon and chicken when I’d been invited for dinner, staleness met my nose.
The house felt…vacant. Completely abandoned of life.
Like a tomb.
A fine layer of dust covered the curio cabinet on the right, dishes piled in the sink to the left, and a few articles of clothing draped over the chairs half-pushed in around the table. I didn’t bother mentioning the mess Chaz hadn’t cleaned up. Doing so would make me sound like his nagging wife, and he didn’t need another reason to drink more than I already expected him to in the coming hours.
We kicked off our shoes, and he grabbed a bottle of whiskey and two tumblers from a cabinet, nodding toward the living room.
I sat on one corner of the couch and nursed my drink while he swallowed down a couple more shots, the quiet oppressive like a too-heavy barbell across my shoulders.
Chaz slouched on the other end, body wilted and head downturned. He focused on the empty glass clutched in both of his hands.
“I don’t want to be here anymore, Jamie,” Chaz whispered, his voice ragged and slurred from all the alcohol he’d drunk. “I’m not strong enough to do this.”
Chapter 20
Chaz
Jamie didn’t react to my admission, and I reached for the whiskey to pour myself another shot, lost in my misery and the wish to escape it.
He tipped his glass back with intention and held it out for a refill.
I couldn’t be bothered with another dose of guilt over him drinking with me when I knew he preferred water to alcohol.
“I was so focused on succeeding and proving my Dad wrong that I ignored Shelly when she needed me most.”
Failed in knocking her up too, but I wouldn’t ever admit that humiliation to another soul.
I eyed the amber liquid in my tumbler, the whiskey loosening my tongue. I’d had zero intention of even talking about my dead wife, but here we were, and I was well on my way toward drunk off my ass.
“Hard work equals success was my motto,” I continued to spill my guts, “but I forgot to pay attention to the most important thing that mattered—my marriage.”
“Her death wasn’t your fault,” Jamie murmured. “And the grief might be making you feel like you have to escape permanently, but I want you here. Can’t live without my bestfriend, Chaz. Lots of people would be devastated if anything happened to you.”
I slammed back the shot and poured another, ignoring his words. “I was stupid to think it would ever work.” Jamie didn’t know I spoke of marrying Shelly when I’d desired but couldn’t have him, but I’d come to realize with every passing hour as my sorrow grew that I didn’t deserve the happiness I’d always hoped for.
Those days, like my wife, were long gone.
Even if my childhood dreams came true, I would eventually let him down like I did with everybody else. I couldn’t stomach that heartache becoming reality.
