Page 65 of Every Inch of You
Chapter Twenty-Three
BRAD
“Who cares?”
Larry was jogging on the treadmill when he called me over to talk to him. He said I looked like I’d gotten the shit kicked out of me and asked: “Who started it? You or thewoman?”
I told him she started it and that it was over, and I started to tell him why, and he interrupted and said: “Whocares.”
“Do you want it to beover?”
“No.”
“Then what are you doing aboutit?”
“Nothing. She said she didn’t want me to go to her sister’swedding.”
“And?”
“And that’s it. She’s there. I’mhere.”
“Do you want to bethere?”
“Yeah.”
“Then why are youhere?”
“Because she doesn’t want methere.”
“How do youknow?”
“Because she said I probably shouldn’t go. Or that it would probably be best if I didn’tgo.”
“Uh huh. Did you tell her you wanted togo?”
“No.”
“There yougo.”
“What?”
“You should have toldher.”
“But I think she might be messing withme.”
“Why would she mess with you? You know what—who cares. So what if she was. You wanted to go you should have told her. Women need words. They need to hear them. From you. Every day. It’s a thing. I’m just some old asshole who’s been divorced four times, but I’m also a guy who’s been married fourtimes.”
“Five times a charm,right?”
“God-willing.”
Larry adjusted the speed on the treadmill, picked up his pace. “I’ve seen the girl. I’ve seen how you look at her when she isn’t looking at you. I’ve seen how she looks at you. Just go to her and put it all out there—put your balls on the line! What have you got tolose?”
Duh.“Myballs.”
He waved his hand dismissively. “If you’re not telling a girl like that how you feel because you’re afraid of losing your balls then you don’t deserve to have them. The girl or theballs.”
I knew he wasright.
