Dear Life(70)

Sitting up, Jace props his knees and rests his forearms on them, his head bent forward. Wanting to comfort him, I scoot close and entwine one of my arms with his.

“He sat there, Hollyn. He sat there and watched me fucking cry over the fact that Rebecca wants to get the baby back and the entire time, he’d been fucking her. He just sat there, not saying a damn thing.”

I swallow hard, my emotions in turmoil for Jace and the pain he’s feeling.

“What kind of best friend is that?” He shakes his head. “Never in a million years would I have guessed Ethan would do something like this to me. He’s always been loyal, forthcoming about his life, and never once would I have guessed he could betray me. I don’t get it.”

“Maybe he really likes her,” I suggest. “Sometimes when you find yourself falling in love you do stupid things. Just to preserve the connection you have with another human being.”

“There’s a code, Hollyn. You don’t sleep with your best friend’s ex, whether they mean anything to you or not,” Jace hisses. “When Rebecca first showed up at my apartment to tell me she was pregnant, he was there. I mean, fuck . . .” he pauses and slams his fist on the hood of his car, startling me, “was he with her then? Did he pretend he didn’t know she was pregnant when she told me? And is he part of this whole plan to get Hope back? He was my family, Hollyn. My brother.” He pauses, as if the words are just too much to contemplate. “Is he encouraging her to ruin my life, Hope’s life, and the lives of two incredible women? Why? What’s his part in all of this? Why has he lied to me, Hollyn? I don’t get it.”

I don’t get it either. Jace is one of the best men I’ve ever known. He’s kind, selfless, intelligent, and thoughtful. How on earth do I help him with this?

“Maybe you should talk to him.”

A sardonic laugh comes out of him as he leans back on the windshield and stares up at the dark sky. “And say what? Hey bro, why are you fucking me over? Come on, Hollyn. What’s the point? He’s just going to feed me a bunch of bullshit I don’t want to hear. There’s no use for reconciliation. I’ll never trust him again.”

There is use for reconciliation. No matter how big or small the problem might be, you should always find a way to find peace with the people around you, because life will step in, grab you by the heart, and change everything in a matter of seconds. You don’t want to be the person living life full of regret, regret for what you said right before someone passes.

I know from experience.

“You know, Jace,” I stare down at my hands, trying to find the right words, “life is so much bigger than this, than us, than your friendship with Ethan. It flies by with just a blink of an eye, as if it’s a mere dream you experience rather than an entire lifetime. Don’t waste your time sitting in the corner, hating on the people who’ve done you wrong. Rise up and fix it, because if you don’t you’re going to regret it. You’re going to regret it more than you will ever know.”

“Hollyn . . .” He presses his hand against my back but I shake him off, sliding down the hood and onto the dirt.

“No, I don’t want to make this about me.” I take a deep breath and look out into the bleak desert. “This is about you. Just don’t throw away your friendship quite yet. Hear him out, as there may be a reason why he didn’t say anything to you. Is it fucked up what he did? Of course, I’m not going to devalue your feelings or emotions. You have the right to be mad, but be mad with a purpose. Be mad at the right thing.”

The sound of the hood bending clues me into his approach. I can feel his heat before he wraps his arms around my midsection and pulls me in close, his head hanging over my shoulder, his voice low when he speaks. “Be mad with a purpose.”

I nod, unable to speak. Memories of that morning playing out in my mind.

That petty fight.

Those hurtful words.

The lack of goodbye.

The loss of hearing I love you one last time.

Tears stream down my cheeks. It happened all too fast. I was going to apologize that night. I had it all planned out. His favorite dinner, his favorite beer chilling in the fridge, our love playlist poised and ready to be played. I was going to say I was sorry, but I never got the chance.

“Hollyn, talk to me.” Turning me around, Jace grips me by the shoulders, a slight shake in his need to get me to look at him. “We’re honest with each other, remember? Tell me what’s going on so I can help you.”

With the heaviest and saddest heart, I say, “I told Eric I hated him before he died. That was the last thing I said to him, the last words he ever heard my voice say. I hate you.”

“Hollyn, he knew you didn’t mean those words.”

“It doesn’t matter if I meant them or not,” I shout back. “That was the last thing he heard from me. He went to training that day, thinking the worst of our marriage, of me. And then . . .” I choke on a sob that pops out of my mouth. “What if . . . what if what I said distracted him? What if I’m the reason he died, because he wasn’t paying attention, he wasn’t focused? I did that to him.”

“Don’t.” Jace steps up and grips my jaw with his strong hand, forcing me to meet his eyes. “Don’t you dare take the blame for his death. You had nothing to do with that.”