“What in the name of God was I thinking?” Strewn on top of my bed in my tux, several hours later, I howled like a banshee into the phone, repeating the same question I’d been asking myself all day. “Why, God, why do bad things happen to good people?”
“Because she’s not a good person, Gibs, and your girlfriend was right when she called her a pervert.”
I narrowed my eyes and glared at my phone. “Not fucking helping, Cap.”
“I told you that you never should’ve touched that woman. From day one, I told you, but you wouldn’t listen to me.”
“Now you’re really not fucking helping,” I huffed. “I’ve a good mind to hang up on you.”
“That wouldn’t be such a terrible thing, lad, considering I need to take a shower and get ready for this bleeding dance.”
“Don’t you dare hang up on me in my need,” I warned, pointing a finger at the phone, even though he couldn’t see me. “I’m warning ya, Cap. I’ll cry.”
“Jesus, fine,” I heard my best friend groan. “You can stay on the line while I take a shower.”
Nodding my approval, I resumed my tale of woe, rehashing the same argument over and over until I ran out of steam.
“Do you want to hear something positive?” I heard Johnny ask over the sound of a shower motor running.
“Yes,” I begged. “Badly.”
“I’m proud of you.”
I balked. “Proud of me?”
“You came clean to her, Gibs,” he called back. “You got it off your chest. That couldn’t have been easy, lad, but you did it.”
“Johnny, she almost took leave of her senses,” I deadpanned. “She threatened to have Dee arrested, she forced her to resign on the spot, and I’m not sure if she still wants to be with me. I reckon it’s safe to say there is nothing about today that I can be proud of.” Shuddering, I added, “It was a terrible fucking mistake on my part and one I won’t ever be making again.”
“Then I guess it’s a good thing you only have one skeleton in your closet, lad.”
“Yeah.” I clenched my eyes shut and nodded. “Lucky me.”
“Listen to me,” he said when the sound of the motor running abruptly cut out. “I want you to get your tux on, splash some water on your face, walk your ass across the street, and give that girl of yours the yellow bleeding flower you’ve spent the last two weeks trying to hunt down. Shannon and I will be over in the limo in an hour, lad, so you best be ready.”
“It’s a Midas Touch rose,” I muttered. “And what if she doesn’t want to go with me anymore, Johnny?” My heart seized with dread at the thought. “I’ve known Claire my entire life, and I swear I’ve never seen her so angry.”
“If you don’t shoot, you don’t score, Gibs.”
“Trust you to toss out a sport’s analogy when I’m having an existential crisis.”
“Just go get your girl, Gibs,” he instructed before the line went dead.
“Easier said than done, Cap,” I whispered, scrubbing my face with my hand. “Fuck.”
Tossing my phone on my nightstand, I reached a hand under my mattress to retrieve the familiar folded-up piece of paper, and then, like the masochist I was, I unfolded the page and reread Caoimhe Young’s suicide note.
The real one.
The one she left just for me.
