Shattering - 10. Chapter 10 - Distance

Home, sweet home.

 

I sighed, fumbling with my key in the lock. It was a little hot out walking back from the subway in the sun. Not that I didn’t enjoy it. Actually, I think I’m going to spend some time out on the back patio once I’ve settled.

 

I shucked my shoes and tossed my keys into the basket, then took my gym bag downstairs to put the soiled clothing in a hamper ready for the wash. Mike preferred doing the laundry as one of his household chores, but I’d been doing more of it lately. It didn’t bother me, not really, but it was just another thing to add to the list. Heading back upstairs, I started considering what I should have for dinner. Mike had texted me while I was doing my workout and solo racquetball session at the gym saying that he wouldn’t be home for dinner, but expects to be home sometime around nine. He’ll probably be hungry when he gets home, so maybe I’ll have some of the vichyssoise I made for us to have with dinner a couple days ago, along with some crusty bread.

 

I was feeling a little lonely. I told my mother I’d call around seven, but that was when I was expecting to get home later. Since I cut the day at work short, I was a little over an hour ahead of schedule. Maybe Mom and I could eat dinner together over Skype instead? Is that pathetic? I rolled my eyes at myself and dialed home.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Tere, Ema.”1

 

“David! You’re early! Weren’t we going to talk at seven?”

 

“Jah, ma tean. Vabandust. Kas sa sööd? Ma ei oodata, kui soovite.”2

 

“Oh,I just pulled the pasta off the stove. I’ve just got to toss it in the sauce and it’s ready to go. So you’ll have to excuse me. And what’s with the Estonian all of a sudden?”

 

“I’m just practicing. Ega sa ei pahanda, kui meil on õhtusöök koos?”3

 

“Huh? David, I don’t- Wait, have dinner together? Are you in town at the airport?!”

 

I chuckled, just imagining the frazzled look on her face. “No, Mom. I thought maybe we could Skype while we ate. Sort of like having dinner together only not quite.”

 

“Oh David! That’s a lovely idea. Give me a couple minutes to get my laptop in here and set up and we can chat between bites.”

 

“Alright Mom. Talk to you in a few.”

 

I hung up and went to retrieve my laptop from the office. The little beast was getting a little old now. I should probably get a new one soon. I don’t even have to feel much guilt about it, now that I have my job back. For some of the things I’ll be working on, I’m going to need a reliable machine for on-the-go work. I’m going to have to leave the office to go meet clients off-site sometimes, so I need something that looks a little sleek and I need a really high quality screen for that whenever I’m working with photos, and a good set of hardware to deal with the graphics manipulations.

 

I placed the laptop on the kitchen counter and loaded up Skype and hit the call button as soon as my mother came online. “Hey Mom.”

 

“Hello again. Do you not have supper prepared yet?”

 

“Oh, I’m just having leftovers. Mike isn’t going to be home until nine, though knowing how things have been lately it could very well be even later than that. I guess I just don’t feel like cooking something new just for myself. You going to show me the pasta you made?”

 

“Sure, David.” She angled the laptop lid so I could see the plate of food in front of her.

 

“Is that spaghetti alla puttanesca?”

 

“Indeed it is,” she confirmed, smiling.

 

I sighed. “Yup, definitely jealous now.”

 

“Well get your food ready then, you slug! I know you probably have something wonderful up your sleeve, even if it is ‘just leftovers’.”

 

I rolled my eyes, pulling the vichyssoise and a bottle of Sinner and Saint pinot grigio out of the fridge. After pouring myself a glass of wine I doled out a generous bowl of the soup and cut myself a few slices of a ciabatta loaf we’d been working on the past couple days. I gave the bread a generous dash of olive oil and cracked some black pepper over the soup. After returning the remaining soup and wine to the fridge I moved over to the breakfast bar and sat down on one of the stools, turning the laptop around to face me.

 

“Is that potato leek soup I spy? Why don’t you warm it up?”

 

“It’s vichyssoise, Mom. You’re supposed to eat it cold.”

 

“Oh. Well, you know me. I never did understand the whole cold soup thing.”

 

“Yet you love my gazpacho.”

 

My mother smiled. “Very true. So how has your first week back at work been going?”

 

“You make it sound like I stopped working entirely,” I replied dryly.

 

“David Ivar Templeton, I am not in the mood for your snark while I eat my dinner.”

 

I sighed. “Sorry. I just... “

 

“Bad day?”

 

“No, not really. Not at all, actually. My team at work has been doing a great job with things so there hasn’t been much I needed to do with them yet, and our new team member, Callum, started today. He’s straight out of college, but the work he did on his internships was top shelf. It’s only been a day, but I think he’s going to fit in just fine with us. And I went to a YMCA downtown after work because I’m trying to get back into racquetball again. A friend I made recently expressed interest, so I just wanted to get in some solo time first so I don’t embarrass myself So… it’s been a good day, really. I just am not feeling it.”

 

“We all have those times when things are going well but you just can’t feel the joy, David. I don’t think it’s anything to worry about.”

 

“I don’t know, Mom. There’s a lot going on and…”

 

She set down her fork and eyed me with a concerned frown. “What’s the matter, honey?”

 

I swallowed. I could feel tears welling, but I didn't want them to fall right now. Not during this conversation. Not over Skype.

 

“A lot,” I repeated, taking a large gulp of my wine. “Mike is working so much that it's been putting strain on us, and I’ve been feeling a lot of insecurities in general.”

 

“Is some of this hangover from the little depression you’ve been dealing with since Globestar let you go last year?”

 

“Depression? I’m not-”

 

“Yes you are. I’m your mother. I know you. Maybe it’s not been as ‘little’ as I suspected. The last few months there were a lot of times where you were reminding me of you at sixteen.”

 

I groaned. “Mom, I was just a hormonal teenager with few friends. This is completely different.”

 

“Is it?”

 

“Yes. Completely.”

 

She shook her head. “I’m not going to disagree with you since I’m not close by enough to have seen you regularly, but I just want you to know you can come to me with anything David. I don’t want you hiding things like you did as a teen.”

 

I am not proud of it, but there were a lot of times I’d claim to be going out with friends when I was doing nothing of the sort. I’d just leave home and wander. Don’t get me wrong, I still hung out with my friends Becky, Gord and Doug, but not always. Sometimes I just needed to be alone. It really worried my mother when she caught me in a lie once. I’d said I was out with the four when Becky showed up on our doorstep wondering if I wanted to hang out. My my mother was furious and disappointed with me initially, but the worries came later. My father, of course, didn’t really give a fuck. I wasn’t doing drugs. I wasn’t committing crimes. So what if I wanted some alone time?

 

I’d lost all three of them, those high school friends. Becky got caught up in some crazy church’s fire and brimstone bullshit when she left for college in Thunder Bay and then married an evangelical bible-thumper named Robert after only a year of dating. I became a persona non grata. From what I’ve heard they have six kids now and they would have had more if she hadn’t needed a hysterectomy after the last child. Her parents Bob and Judy hate her husband, but put up with his bullshit because they don’t want to lose their daughter and grandkids. They worry about her, though.

 

I don’t. You don’t turn your back on all of your friends the way she did. She started judging all of us - me for being gay, Gord for his slide into drug addiction, and Doug for… fuck, probably just because he associated with us. She went from being a sweet, caring girl who put everyone else before her to a judgemental bitch in the space of six months. It was so fast it was shocking. I still can’t believe the amazing girl I’d said goodbye to just before Labour Day was the same person as the censorious one I met with once when I came home for the summer after my first year of college and then was immediately repudiated when I refused to be 'saved'. Karma can be a bitch, though. I wonder how she feels about giving up all her dreams to stay at home and be barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen?

 

I bet she hates her life now.

 

Gord had his life fucked over by a dealer who sold him some bad pot laced with crack, or something like that, when we were nineteen. At first he just thought it was awesome pot but then the dealer got him into heavier stuff pretty easily since he was already a user, even if he didn't realize it. Gord kept his shit together for a couple years, well enough to hide what was going on, anyway. But slowly the cracks in his facade appeared. Gord kept borrowing money from people, and then later he started to steal. No one caught on to it at first, but… well, he got stupid about it because he couldn’t concentrate on anything but getting the next hit. He was in and out of jail for a few years. Doug took him in and took care of him when he could - they were best friends, after all. But Gord was too far gone. He died of a massive heroin overdose. Doug found him on the couch the next morning with the needle still in his hands. It hit Doug and I pretty hard, losing him like that. Becky, of course, didn’t bother showing up for the funeral.

 

And Doug? I just don’t understand what happened. Or why. I mean… maybe I do. Maybe it’s because I missed so much, didn’t see the signs. Maybe it’s just too hard to...

 

Sigh.

 

After Gord died, Doug became increasingly distant from everyone back in Dryden. I didn’t know how bad things were because I was living in Toronto full time by then. He’d been good over the many phone calls we shared, and whenever we met up while I was home visiting around holidays in that first year after Gord’s death. On the anniversary of it, we had a long video chat. We laughed and cried, talking about the good times back in high school. I thought that we were there for each other in the way no one else could have been, and that we were making peace with it. I wanted to be back home, right there with him so that I could give him the best bro-hugs I could manage. I wish I’d been there, wished it the entire time we were talking. I wish I’d made a request for permission to be absent for a few days to go home for Gord’s memorial service to be with Doug, but I didn’t. If I'd just been there...

 

Doug didn’t show up for work the next day. No one knew where he was. After a few days, they filed a missing person alert about him, but he’d disappeared, completely. They never found a body, never found his truck. I want to believe in my heart of hearts that Doug is alive out there somewhere. I need to believe it. He’d been the strongest of us. There was no suicide note, just an opened box whose contents had been scattered around the living room of his apartment. It was photos of our friends. Things he’d saved as memories of the four of us. So many laughs, so many good times. But more than anything else, there were memories of Gord. Pictures of he and Doug together when we were younger, during college, and throughout our mid-twenties. Pictures in the good times and the bad. Pictures, and Gord’s old Blue Jays hat and team jersey. Pictures, and a ring.

 

I don’t know what it meant. Were they more than best friends? Was Doug gay like me, but too scared to admit it? Or both of them? Had Gord ever worn that ring, or was it something Doug bought hoping to give it to him some day? Or was it something Gord gave to Doug, even if there was a fair chance it was stolen?

 

I’ll never have answers to those questions, will I?

 

All of these things, these bad things that happened with my former friends, they happened after I left Dryden. Maybe we were all victims of the scars we developed in high school, but I’ve moved on from it all. I moved on when I left Dryden. I moved on when I met Brady. I moved on when I made friends here in Toronto, friends who still make an effort. I moved on when I met Mike and his great and overwhelming love made me feel safe and at peace and able to finally let go of so many of my burdens. Even the ones he didn’t know I had, and ones that I didn't realize I still carried.

 

Mike gave me all of that and yet now I was fighting back these false alarms, these frightening feelings that love our was in jeopardy, fighting off fear and mistrust when I should feel the exact opposite.

 

“Look, Mom, I just got myself lost in my head and had too much time on my hands. It left me with way too much opportunity to be introspective. My anxieties latched on to the fact that Mike’s been working so much and twisted it into a sign that we were falling apart.”

 

“Were?”

 

“Yes, were. We’ve talked about things, a little, and we are mostly back on the same page about my issues and how we both feel. We still have things to discuss about his work, though I’m not as worried about that now compared to what I would have said a week ago.”

 

My mother nodded, definitely concerned about my admission. “Are you going to be okay?”

 

“Yes,” I answered without hesitation. The instant it left my mouth I felt this simultaneous wave strength shadowed by a pulse of worry. Fuck.

 

“Okay, David. Remember I’m here. I know it’s hard with the distance, but I’m here. Just say the word and I’ll fly down, or help you get up here if you need some time away. You are my son, and I will support you no matter what happens between you and Mike.” She paused, then gave me a soft smile. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about, though. You two have one of the strongest loves’ I’ve seen in my lifetime. I know it’s hard work sometimes, David, but if I could put up with some of your father’s bullshit for so many years I know that you two can get through whatever these troubles are,” she reassured me.

 

I swallowed, trying to suppress the tightness in my throat. “Tänu ema,”⁵ I murmured.

 

My mother smiled warmly. “Now, why have you decided to start practicing your Estonian all of a sudden?”

 

“Oh…” I paused, suddenly uncomfortable. “Well, Mike and I are thinking about visiting Estonia and Finland for a vacation this winter. I wanted to ask you about coming along, maybe, for the Estonia part of it so we could visit with vanaemake4 Lüüdia’s family.”

 

“Why David, that’s wonderful! I absolutely would love to come along, but-”

 

“I don’t want you to worry about it right now, Mom. Mike and I only talked about it briefly and a lot has changed in the last few weeks. We both would have to balance things out with work, and even though it’s months away I don’t really want to start getting excited about it until we get some things set in stone. And don’t you dare fret about whether or not you can afford it! Mike and I can easily afford to buy your plane ticket now that I’m back at work.”

 

My mother sighed. “Well, perhaps you are right. Still, I don’t want you to be spending any more of your money on me than you already do. It’s enough that you come here to visit a few times a year. I’ve kept in touch with some of our cousins, but it’s not like we have a close relationship.”

 

“Mom, you are turning sixty next fall anyway. If we end up going, you could think of it as your birthday gift.”

 

She rolled her eyes. “You won’t give up, will you?”

 

I grinned innocently, eliciting a laugh from her.

 

“So what else are you doing to practice your Estonian? Practicing with me over the phone and Skype isn’t really going to help you because I’m just as rusty as you are, even if I spoke a lot more of it when I was growing up.”

 

My mother had rarely spoken in Estonian since my vanaemake passed away. I think it just hurt too much at the time. Vanaemake had only been in her early sixties when she passed on. There were times when I worried that my mother would have troubles with thoughts about her own mortality, considering how my father passed away before his time as well. Regardless, I sincerely doubted her Estonian was so rusty that she’d have lost nearly as much as I had, if any at all.

 

“Well… Mike and I actually made an Estonian friend recently. Vicky introduced us. His name’s Rain Mägi. I’m going to practice with him here and there when we have time.” I said, my pulse speeding up. Jesus, I really need to get a grip. This isn’t a big deal! “ Mike wants to learn too, but I don’t think it’s going to happen with the way his work schedule is, unless things change significantly in the next few months.”

 

“That’s completely understandable. I’m so proud that you will be practicing again! Your vanaemake is smiling down on you from Heaven, I’m sure.”

 

Our conversation continued on with lighter topics while we finished eating our dinners, meandering back and forth between my stilted attempts at Estonian and easier English: updates about Callum and my work team, about Brady, about Victoria and our other friends, and about Rain and Laleh. My mother had an expression on her face that I couldn’t quite decipher while I was describing Rain to her. Maybe I went on too long about his personality, about Rain and Mike’s interactions and shared loves, about how Rain and I were going to try the racquetball thing. I don’t know.

 

Eventually I had to wrap up the call, because it was getting close to the time that Brady and I were supposed to chat. Actually, we were supposed to talk yesterday, but a certain bitch named Divya decided she needed him as arm candy for some friend’s gallery opening that they originally were not planning to attend. At least, Brady wasn’t planning on it. Art really wasn’t his thing.

 

Whatever.

 

I said goodbye to my mother, receiving more platitudes and promises to be there for me no matter what. It’s not that the words aren’t true, but it’s hard, so hard not having her close by. In the aftermath of my father’s death, I tried to convince her to come down to Toronto and do it before she retires so she has some time to establish herself while still working, but she insisted on staying up in Dryden. She would be giving up a lot of friends and community just for me. Even if she grew up in Winnipeg, I think the smalltown life has been a good fit for her and Toronto was definitely the opposite of that.

 

I washed up my dishes, poured myself a large glass of wine to finish off the bottle, and took the laptop into the living room. I turned on the TV and sort of veged out with the evening news. I’m not exactly sure when it happened, but I must have dozed off because the next thing I knew it was dark in the room, the daylight having fled. I hadn’t turned the light on when I came into the room.

 

It was 8:30. Brady was supposed to call an hour ago. I looked down at Skype. No missed calls, no messages. He hadn’t texted me and there were no new emails in my inbox, either. I bit my lip, restraining myself from sending him a message. I was trying to be stronger and not get worked up when these things happened, whether it was with Mike or anyone else.

 

I turned my attention to the TV and switched channels to watch Hockey Night in Canada. I’d missed the first period, but no big deal. I wasn’t particularly attached to the results of game tonight. It was the Bruins vs. the Blackhawks. It was a tough matchup for these teams. They came out of the regular season head to head in the rankings and had an equal ratio of wins, losses and ties when they’d played together before. The Bruins were up three games to two, so if they clinched this game they move on to the next round. My home team, the Winnipeg Jets, had already won their series (unlike the pathetic Leafs, ha!), so I was just waiting to see who they’d be facing in the next round. The Jets had managed to beat the Bruins in each game they played in the regular season, so I guess I could cheer for the Bruins tonight - one would think they’d be the easier matchup for the Jets in the next round.

 

I got up and retrieved a beer from the fridge and got the power cord for my laptop. The battery was running pretty low, and I wouldn’t want to interrupt the conversation later to retrieve the power cord then. Not that Brady would mind.

 

It was a tense game with lots of good plays, but the goalies for both teams were having outstanding games. The Bruins ended up taking a penalty on a dubious call in the last five minutes of the game, and that was enough to give the Blackhawks the opportunity they needed to score. Damn. Well, it looks like there will be a game seven. At least the Bruins would have home ice advantage for it.

 

It was 10:00. I wasn’t all that surprised that Mike wasn’t home yet, but bothered that Brady hadn’t called. I was getting tired, wanting to hit the hay soon, but I was also feeling a bit hungry again. I decided to just send Brady as quick message on Skype asking him to text or email me so we could work out another time to talk since he clearly had something going on. I told him I hoped everything was okay. I turned the TV off and shut my laptop, leaving it closed on the couch.

 

Keys turned in the lock at the front door as I entered the kitchen. I went back out to the entrance way to greet a haggard-looking Mike. “Hey babe,” I greeted.

 

“Hi,” he grumbled as he bent to unlace his shoes, and then kicked them off unceremoniously.

 

I moved to his side and pressed in for a short kiss when he stood back up. He made it shorter than I would have liked, stepping by me and heading to his office. I followed him, watching from the doorway as he pulled some files from his briefcase before dropping it to the floor. His shoulders were raised, full of tension.

 

“Did you have time to eat supper? I didn’t eat much, so I was thinking about putting one of the freezer pizzas I made a few weeks ago into the oven,” I said, moving behind him to start massaging his shoulders. He shrugged me off.

 

“Not now, and I don’t want a massage. I’m tired and I just want to go to bed, okay?” he replied tersely.

 

“Fine,” I said, shaking my head. “Fine.”

 

I left the office for the kitchen, trying not to get upset. It’s 10 o’clock and he’d been at the office for 14 hours today. Shit was going on that I didn’t know about, and I need to give him the benefit of the doubt, give him my patience and support. Even if that support didn’t include a back rub or a good meal. After setting the oven to preheat, I went downstairs and pulled one of my freezer pizzas out. This one had kale, prosciutto and caramelized onions. I’ll have half of it tonight, and the other half can be packed away in the fridge for my lunch tomorrow since Mike clearly was not interested.

 

When I returned to the kitchen Mike was standing there, leaning against the fridge and nursing a beer. “Sorry, David. I’m exhausted, but I shouldn’t be taking it out on you.”

 

I smiled weakly. “If I didn’t understand that you can be a total grouch when you are tired by this point in our relationship…” I trailed off. I didn’t want to finish that thought, not with some joke about how stupid I am, or some idiotic remark about how we shouldn’t be together. It would hit far too close to home. The very fact that I’m thinking it is bad enough.

 

“Is it okay if I have some of that pizza after all?” he asked, looking sheepish. “You were right, I only had a granola bar and an apple for dinner.”

 

I nodded, setting the pizza down on the counter and unwrapping it. I walked over to the fridge and he moved aside so I could retrieve another beer for myself. I was about to head back to the counter when his hand found my arm and turned me back towards him. He kissed me softly, the kiss I had wanted to receive when he’d walked in the door. After a moment his hand came up to tangle his fingers in the hair on the back of my head, sending shivers down my body with his soft caress. He broke the kiss, his eyes tired but warm now.

 

“I love you.”

 

My cheeks heated with a slight flush. “I love you too, babe.”

 

He smiled and kissed me softly again. He took my beer bottle from me and popped the cap off. “You want to wait in the living room for the oven to preheat?”

 

“Sure.”

 

We sat down on the couch together. I pulled him to lay back against me. He looked surprised for a moment, but then relaxed into my body. I guess we were usually in the opposite position, but I was okay tonight and he needed the comforting. If he was choosing to stay up with me for a bit when he was clearly exhausted… I want to show him I care too.

 

“Mom says hi.”

 

“Right, you were going to talk to her and Brady tonight,” he responded, then sighed. “I wish I could have been around. It would have been nice to talk to both of them a little.”

 

“Yeah, Mom would have loved that. I haven’t heard from Brady, though.”

 

Mike frowned. “What happened? Didn’t he cancel on you last night?”

 

“Yeah. At least last night he gave me a heads up about being dragged out to that art show by Divya. Tonight I apparently don’t even warrant a text or email.”

 

Mike shook his head. “This is really not like him.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Did you ask him what-”

 

“I sent him a message on Skype asking him to text or email me when he had time for us to talk since tonight clearly isn’t happening, but I haven’t gotten any response. I’m not going to do anything else. I’m trying to not overdo it with these things now - not with you, or anyone else,” I interrupted, not wanting to get into it.

 

Mike sighed. “David, you don’t need to worry about overdoing it. You usually don’t. I was being an asshole last week and we were both in a bad place. Don’t take what I said out of anger and exhaustion to heart.”

 

“No, Mike, I want to stop being so demanding of responses. Everyone is busy, I get that. I need to relax, let things go and not get bent out of shape when I don’t hear back from people immediately.”

 

Mike was silent. We heard the oven beep and Mike got up and put the pizza in. He returned with a new beer for each of us. We resumed our position, him lying against me, and quietly enjoyed one another’s touch. We stayed cuddled like that for another ten minutes until the pizza was done. We made quick work of the pizza and then headed upstairs to get ready for bed. It was nearing eleven o’clock and we were both dragging. I hope Mike will be okay for getting into work on time in the morning. This was becoming a really late night for him.

 

Just as I was spitting my mouthwash back into the sink after brushing my teeth, my cell phone started to ring at my bedside table. I strode over and picked it up. Mike looked at me, raising an eyebrow in question. “It’s Brady. You may as well get into bed. I’m not going to talk to him long.”

 

Mike nodded his agreement, and I swiped to answer the phone. “Hi Brady,” I greeted, trying not to let any of my mixed feelings show in my voice. I left the bedroom and headed across the hall into the guest room, shutting the door.

 

“Hey David. Umm… Sorry for calling so late.”

 

“Yeah. What happened?”

 

“When I got home from work, Divya was there with her parents. Apparently she had decided we were having dinner together without telling me.”

 

Oh yeah, that was another reason Divya had moved back to Vancouver - all of her family was there. The parts of it that weren’t in India, anyway. Divya wasn’t even living with Brady, instead electing to live with her parents again. To make things worse, Brady didn’t feel very welcome at the family home. He felt like he’d done almost everything he could think of but he just couldn’t seem to make any headway with her parents. It was like they didn’t even care to get to know him. Divya’s older brothers weren’t all that much better, and her younger sister was so vapid and self-absorbed that nothing that wasn’t centered around her was worth her attention.

 

“That sucks Brady. I wish you could have texted me.”

 

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I was just shocked that they were there. I mean, they’ve never come over before. I guess they haven’t had much reason to since Divya and I still aren’t living together full time. I just… well, I’ve told you how much her father hates people who use their cell phones while visiting with others, especially if you are eating together. And I had to sort out what the hell we could eat from what I had in my fridge and pantry since Divya didn’t bring anything with her and they didn’t want to go out to a restaurant. In the end I handed Divya some money to grab a few things at the grocery store a few blocks away otherwise we were going to be having Kraft Dinner with some salsa mixed into it.”

 

“And we both know how that would have went over,” I added dryly.

 

“What can I say, I’m not the culinary genius you are. I go out to eat when I want fancy food like that.”

 

“So how did the cooking end up going? I can’t imagine it was easy trying to balance socializing with that. Not for you, anyway,” I needled.

 

I could practically hear Brady roll his eyes. “It was fine. I made that spicy peanut chicken stew recipe from my Mom.”

 

“Oh man, I miss that one. I think it’s been a couple years since I made it. I definitely need to make it again sometime soon. Did it go over well?”

 

“Yeah, actually it did. To be honest I think it was the first positive reaction I’d ever received from Priya and Jigar. I told Priya it was my mother’s recipe and made a copy for her to take home.”

 

“Well, I’m glad it went well for you,” I said, only half-meaning it. I felt a bit selfish for feeling that way, but how goddamn hard was it to send me a brief message?

 

“Do you forgive me? I really wish I’d done this differently, David, but you know how it is. Sometimes you just have to put family first.”

 

I recoiled away from the phone from the sting of those words. Family first? Apparently I’d been downgraded by the one who told me I was closer than a brother to him. Apparently I was being replaced by a family that seemed to not give a damn whether he was there or not, even if tonight might have finally been an attempt at thawing the ice after almost four years of Brady dating their daughter.

 

“Yeah… family…” I croaked.

 

There was a pause. I’m not sure whether it was awkward because neither of us knew what to say, or because Brady realized he’d just put his foot in his mouth. I bit my lip.

 

“Look, I have to go. It’s late and I need to get my sleep. I have a big day at work tomorrow,” I said quietly. “The new guy started today, so I have a lot of training work to do with him in addition to my own stuff, so…”

 

“Okay… Okay, David. When should we-”

 

“We’ll figure that out later, Brady. Bye.”

 

I hung up before he could respond. I felt like an asshole for doing it, but I didn’t want to think about it right now. Not with the couple stray tears streaking down my cheeks. God, I’m so fucking selfish. I should be happy for him, happy that things seem to be moving along with Divya and her family. I should be happy that he’s finding his place. Fuck, maybe that’s why she brought her parents around to his apartment, to evaluate his living conditions so they could move in together finally. Brady would finally get what he wanted - her living with him full time, playing house. Maybe even getting married.

 

I should be happy for him. For them.

 

I should be happy, even if I’m losing yet another friend - drifting away in the distance.