Stepbrother Dearest(52)

“Why did you come back just now?”

“I turned around and saw you crying. What kind of a heartless * would leave you like that?”

“Well, you weren’t supposed to see that. You really should have kept walking because now you’re making it worse.”

“I didn’t want that to be my last visual.”

“If you really love her, you shouldn’t have kissed me.”

I hadn’t meant to yell it.

“I do love her.” He looked up at the sky then back at me with anguished eyes. “You want to know the truth? I f*cking love you, too. I don’t think I realized how much until I saw you again.”

He loved me?

I laughed angrily. “You love us both? That’s messed up, Elec.”

“You’ve always told me you wanted honesty. I just gave it to you. I’m sorry if the truth is a f*cked up mess.”

“Well, she has the home court advantage. You’ll forget about me again soon enough. That will simplify things.” I walked back around to the driver’s side.

“Greta…don’t leave like this.”

“I’m not the one leaving.”

I closed the door, turned the ignition and drove away. I only looked in the rearview mirror once and saw Elec standing in the same spot. Maybe my reaction was unfair, but if he was being honest with his feelings, then so was I.

All I could think about on the drive home was how life could be cruel. The “one that got away” was supposed to stay away, not come back and leave you all over again.

When I pulled into my driveway, I noticed an envelope on the passenger seat. It was the one thousand dollars cash I’d given him. That meant any money we’d spent last night was his. There was a note inside.

I just didn’t want you to gamble it. I could never repay you for everything you’ve given me, let alone take money from you.



***



Two months after Elec returned to California, I was finally getting back to a regular routine in New York.

My mother had come to stay with me for the first month after Randy’s death but decided that she wasn’t happy living away from Boston. With Greg and Clara looking out for her and my visiting every other weekend, she was adjusting as well as could be to her new normal.

Elec and I hadn’t contacted each other at all. It was a little bit of a let down to not have received even a text, especially after how we left things, but I wasn’t going to be the first to make contact. For all I knew, I’d never hear from him again.

Thoughts of him still consumed me everyday. I’d wonder if he had asked Chelsea to marry him. I’d wonder whether he was thinking of me. I’d wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t gone to my own room the last night we were together. So, even though I was back to my home base, my mind was constantly elsewhere.


My life in Manhattan was pretty predictable. I worked long days at the office and got home around eight each night. If I didn’t go out for drinks with my co-workers, I’d spend the weeknights reading until I fell asleep with my kindle on my face.

On Friday nights, my neighbor Sully and I would have dinner and drinks at Charlie’s, the pub underneath my apartment. Most women in their mid-twenties would spend their Friday nights with a boyfriend or a group of women their own age. Instead, I chose to spend it with a 70-year-old transvestite.

Sully was a petite Asian man who dressed as a woman and in fact, I assumed he was a woman until one night a pair of spandex revealed some disproportionately massive junk. I sometimes thought of Sully as a he, other times, as a she. It didn’t make a difference because by the time I figured “it” out, I’d already fallen in love with her as a person, and it didn’t matter what gender she was.

Sully was never married, had no kids and was extremely protective of me. Any time a guy would walk into Charlie’s, I’d turn to Sully and say jokingly, “What about him?”

The answer was always the same. “Not good enough for my Greta…but I’d do him.” Then, we’d just have a good laugh.

I’d always been hesitant to talk to Sully about Elec because I was seriously afraid she’d want to hunt him down and kick his ass. One particular Friday night, though, after one too many margaritas, I finally divulged the entire story from start to finish.

“Now, I understand,” Sully said.

“Understand what?”

“Why you’re here with me every Friday night and not on a date with some man, why you’ve been unable to open your heart to anyone. It belongs to someone else.”

“It used to. Now, it’s just broken. How do I fix it?”

“Sometimes, we can’t.”

Sully stared off, and I suspected she was speaking from experience.

“The trick is to force yourself to open it even though it’s broken. A broken heart is still a beating one. And there are many men who I’m sure would like an opportunity to try to fix yours if you’d let them.” She continued, “I’ll tell you one thing, though.”

“What?”

“This…Alec?”

“Elec…with an e.”

“Elec. He’s lucky I won’t set foot on a plane. I’d set his balls on fire.”

“I knew you’d feel this way. That’s why I was afraid to tell you.”