A sob sputters out of me before I can stop it.
“Gretch, please don’t cry.God! I’m sorry. I didn’t know who else to ask. Mom and Dad are in Italy and I don’t know any of your friends.”
That’s because there aren’t any.
I had casual friendships in college, people I hung out with regularly, like my roommate and a few others who shared my major. We had a good enough time together, but they neverreallyknew me.In my entire life, I’ve only ever had two friends that I’ve truly let in: my high school best friend and Connor. Given how those relationships ended, I haven’t opened myself up to anyone since.
“You could have sent Reagan!” I accuse.
He lets out a shaky breath. “No. I couldn’t.”
Something sharp yanks my heart into its grip. “Drew, is Reagan okay?”
“She’s gonna be. Look, I promise to tell you everything as soon as I can, but you don’t need to be worried about us. I swear.”
“Okay. I’m just…I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. But…” He pauses, his frustration riding a tired sigh. “Is having Connor there really so bad? You guys seem to get along fine.”
“We do. I don’t have a problem with Connor.”I mean, unless you’re referring to the relentless self-loathing I’ve been drowning in since he face-mauled me at your wedding and how things are so weird between us except for when they’re damn near perfect, but mostly they’re weird because we’ve never talked about it. Oh, and I blocked his number.
Drew’s voice comes sincere, if not pained. “Do you wanna just tell me what all of this was about to begin with?”
I consider it. As excited as I’ve been about this trip, the loneliness of carrying this big, scary truth by myself has eaten at me. I’m exhausted. But my brother’s going through something, too. Drew would never bail on me if it weren’t something serious. The distress in his voice, the panic in his texts…no. No, whatever he’s carrying is heavy enough as it is.
“It’s nothing,” I say.
“Gretch.”
“Okay, it’s something, but”—I wipe my nose with the back of my hand—“it can wait.”
“You know you can tell me.”
I drag a hand under one eye and then the other and whisper, “I know.”
“Can you at least tell me that you’re safe? You’re not in trouble, are you? In case you’ve forgotten, I’m a lawyer. If you need help escaping the country, I can make that happen.”
A laugh erupts from my chest and I’m thankful for the levity. “One: I’m safe. Two: I’m not in trouble. And three: you’re a patentlawyer. If I needed to escape the country, pretty sure Mom would be my first call.”
“Fair,” he says. “You promise to tell me eventually, right?”
“Yeah. You?”
“I promise.”
“I love you,” I say.
“I love you more.”
After we hang up, I clock the time on my home screen. I usher myself through a few deep breaths to ward off another wave of tears.
Connor and I will spend the next five days together. Him and me. Car rides. Meals. Hikes. Hotel suites.
God, there’s no way we’ll get through this unscathed.
I have to remain focused on what I came here to do. I didn’t come this far, spend all this money, to get distracted by my brother’s best friend. Damn him and his perfect face, kissable lips and penchant for showing up when I least expect him to.
And damn him for breaking my heart.
