He stares to the right, his jaw working back and forth.
Megan looks at me, her makeup-stained face a wash of confusion. “What do you mean?” she asks.
“Why are you so upset with your portrayal, Smith? Look at me,” I command. When he doesn’t budge I yell, “Look at me! You owe me that much!”
Finally he turns, and I see the wetness in his eyes—the burning rage. “Because it’s not fiction,” he says. “Because you told the truth.” His words are laced with pain, and everyone in the room silences. In this moment it feels as if the air we’re all breathing is too loud.
I nod. “That’s right. I did. It’s our story, and you chose the ending. Megan,” I say, bouncing my gaze back to her. “Moose has something he wants to tell you.”
Smith slits his eyes as he glares at his friend.
Moose opens his folded hands and then clasps them again. “Everyone loves a good underdog story, right?”
“I’m confused,” Megan replies. “Don’t you have something to say, Carina?”
“I’m not telling any lies today, or ever again. I’m sorry. This right here is the table of truth. Let Moose finish.”
Jasmine grabs my leg under the table. We’re both a ball of nerves. If I were a smarter person who had a knack for planning I would have had security here with big, metal sticks. Megan looks at Moose, wipes a few tears from beneath her eyes, and flashes him a small smile.
It gives him the confidence he needs. “I’ve been in love with you for longer than I care to admit,” Moose starts. He looks at his friend across the table.
Smith stands, turns around, and stares out of the window, both hands perched on his hips. Megan stays glued to her seat, her wide, beautiful eyes enraptured.
I puff out a breath between closed lips.
Moose stands. “I loved you when he loved you. Before the accident. I know it was wrong, and I never would have admitted these feelings to you under any other circumstance, but I want you, Megan.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Smith mutters loud enough for the whole room to hear. He doesn’t turnaround, though—his back broad and his stance wide.
“Oh my god,” my attorney says.
I shut him up with a glare, and he takes a seat, eyes flicking back and forth between Smith and Moose. Jasmine giggles. It’s unfolding exactly how I knew it would.
“I wanted you when you were standing next to him at BUD/S graduation and when you stood by him through every deployment. The envy I felt at watching you love him is something I’m not proud of.”
Megan stands and rounds the table slowly.
He goes on.
I smile.
Smith remains unmoving.
“When I saw his feelings change, I thought yours might too. It was a shot in the dark because how do you penetrate a heart that’s belonged to only one person? Maybe I didn’t have to. Maybe your heart would recognize I’ve been there all along.”
Jasmine leans over. “Soap opera bullshit at its finest,” she snarks, and I shush her.
Finally, Smith turns around, just in time to see Megan stop in front of Moose. I can’t read his expression, but if I had to guess, it was indifference and relief, also just as I predicted.
“Why didn’t you say something sooner? You were there for me all that time and I always thought it was because Smith asked you to.” Why would a man in love ask his best friend to be there for his woman? Megan is beyond blinded at this point. It’s sad.
Moose shakes his head. “I wanted to be there for you, and I prayed Smith wouldn’t catch on.”
“Enough,” Smith says, cutting an arm through the air. “I’ve assumed this for a long time.” He crosses his arms and, if possible, stands taller. “Why not come to me first? Why not tell me first? Your best friend.” He enunciates the words “best friend” harshly.
“What type of best friend would I be if I admitted feelings for your fiancée? I’ve lived with this for so long it’s become second nature. Telling you was something I never planned on doing. Seeing her happy was the only thing that mattered.”
Megan’s face right now as she gazes at Moose is that of the sun saying hello to the moon for the first time. Relieved. She’s tired. He’s her sanctuary.
