Bree slowly eased me away from her so she could look at me. “Miguel understands.”
“Well he shouldn’t.” I shook my head again. “This isn’t fair to him. Maybe I should just…”
Break up with him? I couldn’t even finish the sentence.
“See?” I said, with a bitter laugh. “I’m selfish. I should let him go. Let him find someone who isn’t messed up.”
The thing was, I couldn’t imagine it. Being without him. My heart was already heavy because I was thinking about Will, but it sank into my gut when I considered breaking up with Miguel. He’d been more than just someone to cover my heart with a temporary band-aid. Piece by piece, he’d carefully glued it back together with his kindness, his patience, and his ridiculous sense of humour. I never expected it, never saw it coming, but he meant everything to me now.
That was what made this breakdown worse. I had a man I adored, and who adored me, but this deep-engrained feeling of loss still washed over me sometimes and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
“You’re not messed up,” Bree said. “And you don’t need to let Miguel go. He wouldn’t go, anyway.”
I chuckled through my tears. She was right about that. I’d tried hard to push him away at the start. He would have gone if he thought I really wanted that. But he stayed. He fought for us.
“Babe, listen to me.” Bree moved her hands from my shoulders and held onto my hands. “Losing someone isn’t something you just get over and never look back on. You can be the happiest you’ve ever been, and you’ll still have days when you’ll wonder what would be different if he was still here. But you. You are still here. And you deserve to live. You deserve to feel, even if sometimes those feelings hurt like a bitch. It makes you real.” She sighed and lowered her head. “Do you think I don’t still have hard days? I should be waddling around this place with a glass of orange juice in my hand, complaining about my aching back and asking Jude to rub my feet.” She gave me a small smile and a shrug. “But I’m not. I wish I was. But you know what I do have? A husband, a glass of champagne, and endless opportunities to try for another baby. Sure, I miss the one I should still be carrying right now, but that’s not the end of my story. And this isn’t the end of yours.”
Taking a deep breath, I pulled her to me. “When did you get so wise, huh?”
She laughed. “Me? I’m still the ditzy idiot you all know and love. Just a little older.”
“You’ve never been an idiot, Bree. Thank you. Thank you for kicking my ass back onto the right track.”
“Anytime, babe. Now.” She let go of me and smiled brightly. “Let’s get
you back inside to that man of yours!”
Smiling back, I said, “I’ll be in in a sec. I just need a minute.”
She nodded in understanding. “Okay. But don’t be too long or I’ll be coming to find you!”
Miguel
A slow, steady pounding beat inside my chest as I walked towards the exit of the party tent, where Freya had been dragged out by Bree.
I’m no idiot. I saw the look on Freya’s face when Will was mentioned during the speeches, and I knew she was still thinking of him as she watched Leah and Radleigh dance together.
How did I know? Because I knew her. Freya and I had been friends for a long time. Long before it even occurred to me that I might have feelings for her. Being with her had just allowed me to know her more. Know her better. Sometimes better than she knew herself. Plus, she couldn’t help wearing her enormous heart on her sleeve. It was part of who she was. Part of why I fell in love with her.
I never meant to fall in love with her. In truth, I fought hard not to. The first night she kissed me, it felt… alien at first. I wanted to kiss her. But I didn’t want to take advantage of her either. She was broken and tired, and I was just the same. Even though it was wrong, something about it felt so, so right. Somehow, we’d untangled the complicated feelings, and I thought we were in a good place.
Bree passed me on my way out, and she offered me a reassuring smile, but it was hard to accept it just yet. I needed to see Freya for myself.
As I exited the tent, I found her, standing right by the door, her arms wrapped around herself to keep warm and her feet shuffling in another attempt to fend off the cold. Right away, I took off my jacket, and she smiled at me as I wrapped it around her shoulders.
“You okay?” I asked.
She nodded, perhaps a little too emphatically. I could see she’d been crying from the tear tracks that had marred her cheeks. She still looked beautiful though, with her hair curled and cascading around her shoulders. Her tear-stained face made her look vulnerable, made me want to protect her from the pain she still felt.
“You wanna talk to me?”
She didn’t say anything for a second. Longer than a second, and that thud in my chest beat harder.
This is it. This is the moment when she tells me she can’t do this anymore.
“Miguel.” Freya turned to face me and her eyes met mine. “There’s something I need to tell you, but you can’t interrupt me until I’m done, okay?”
All I could do was nod as I prepared myself for the inevitable let down. This was how it went for me. I’d had a real good run with Freya. Almost a year. But ultimately, I’m always the friend. Maybe I should try being an asshole to women. That had always worked out well for McCoy. Although, after his breakdown during his speech, it was clear he wasn’t as much of an asshole as he pretended to be. But women, as a rule, seem to prefer the guy who gives them a hard time.