My ass remained glued to the couch since Scorpio dropped me off at home about four days earlier. The supplies of alcohol in my liquor cabinet ran dry faster than ever. A massive headache threatened to unleash its full power if I didn’t push something alcoholic down my throat, and quick.
Nick and Amelia were due to arrive in two hours from their honeymoon in Bali. They boarded the outgoing flight the same day Nadia left. It was Nick’s goddamn luck I was in no state to think, or else I would rip him apart for letting her go.
It wasn’t his fault she left, but according to Scorpio, he didn’t try hard enough to change her mind.
Nick called me on the hour during the first few days of their trip but must have understood I didn’t want to talk to him. Either that, or Scorpio told him to lay off me.
My mental state left a lot to be desired. Confronting Nick wasn’t the best idea while there was still enough alcohol in my system to get a dozen guys drunk, but it couldn’t wait any longer. We had to talk: he had to explain, and I had to hit him at least once.
I took the first shower in three days and ordered a taxi. My car was still at the garage getting fixed. Considering the lack of common sense on my part lately, it was for the best.
Two hours and three painkillers later, fresh as a daisy, I walked into Mr and Mrs Grimwald’s house. Amelia peeked out of the kitchen, a shy, small smile on her tanned face that soon turned into a scowl.
“You look like hell, sweetie. You should shave and sleep for a week.”
“Thanks. It’s good to see you, too. How was the trip?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you chit-chat me. I’m not done condoning your sorry-ass state. Beards are in fashion, you know, but the dark circles surrounding your eyes not so much,” she puffed, raising on her toes to kiss my cheek and wrapped her arms around me in a comforting manner. “How are you? Better than you look, I hope.”
A smirk crossed my lips. It was more than I managed for three weeks, so…progress.I rested my chin on Mel’s head, my muscles the density of rocks, her frizzy hair in my face.
“Have you spoken to her?” I asked, hating myself that much more. “How is she?”
Mel moved away, and her eyes trained on me. “Not better than you. Worse, if I’m honest.” She rested her back on the wall, pulling her red hair into a bun. “I understand why she left, but she’s hurting…” She shook her head as if unsure what to say. “I don’t know, I’m just worried.” She drew her lip between her teeth, glancing in the direction of the living room. “Do you want me to leave you two alone?”
“You can stay if you don’t mind watching me break his nose.”
Mel patted my shoulder, her expression serious. “Take it easy on him; he feels pretty shit as it is. I made sure of it.”
“So, you’re on my side?”
“Of course, I am. You were better with Nadia, and she was better with you. I haven’t seen her that happy in years, Thomas.” She grabbed the keys to her car. “I’ll be back in two hours. If you’re not done screaming, I’ll bang your heads together.”
She blew me a kiss, swung a handbag over her shoulder and left. My composure followed her out. If Nadia was happy with me, why did she choose Adrian?
Nick sat in the living room, still sporting a beach-look with shorts and a white, funky t-shirt which made his tanned face appear darker. He held a glass of vodka. Another one stood on the table.
It was a nice gesture, but it earned him a total of zero points.
I moved a couple of orange pillows away, before I sat on the couch, then reached for the drink. My hands shook more than any other day since Nadia left because it wasn’t just lack of electrolytes in my system this time. There was also anger, stress and a sense of betrayal.
Any idea I had for this conversation vanished. My mind drew a blank. Instead of screaming nonsense, I let Nick speak first.
“I don’t know where to start,” he admitted, rubbing his face.
The wedding ring on his finger was enough to summon memories of Nadia and I dancing at their wedding; enough to twist my stomach.
“I don’t care where you start,” I said, and then…poof—anger took the stage. “Youlether go!”
“No, I didn’t. I asked her to stay. What else did you expect me to do? Lock her up? The guy tried to kill himself!” He took a deep breath, aware that yelling at me wasn’t doing him any favours. “You think I could’ve stopped her? She wouldn’t have listened.”
A scoff left my lips. I gulped half of the vodka as if it were water.
“I did a fucking one-eighty! Nothing mattered more than her, but even if I walked on fucking water, it wouldn’t be good enough for you!” I banged my hands on the table, making Nick shudder. “You didn’t want her to be with me, and you let her go tohim. You were shoving him down her throat from the start!”
I expected a lot: more yelling, reproach, even an apology, but what happened was a bit too much.
Nick’s eyes filled with tears. Real, manly tears, although there was nothing manly about tears. He clenched his jaw, wiped his eyes and took a deep breath, squeezing the bridge of his nose.