Page 36 of The Bitter Rival

“Hey, Bas. Glad I caught you. Wanted to let you know the plans for Grace’s party. We’re having a few folks over next weekend. It’s not going to be anything fancy. Just some close friends and family hanging out by the lake. I already looked. You aren’t on-call, so don’t give me some bullshit excuse for why you can’t come.”

“No, man. I’ll come. I’m happy for you three.”

“Well, good. It’ll be Saturday afternoon, around four.”

“Got it, Nick. I’ll be there. Just promise you won’t mention mine is a few days later.”

“I don’t know what your deal is with birthdays, Sebastian. But okay. We’ll only sing Happy Birthday to Grace.” I hear him chuckle into the line.

“Good. I have to go. I’ll see ya.”

“Okay. See ya, Bas.”

Entering the date into my calendar, I reflect on Nick’s little family. Nick, my sworn bachelor buddy for life, had fallen hard and fast for Kat. They married, and it wasn’t long after they returned from their honeymoon that Grace’s mother chose an adoption plan for her daughter. Now Nick has it all. His practice is thriving, they live in a beautiful home on the lake, and he couldn’t be happier. Even his ‘little brother,’ Gavin, whom he met through the Big Brothers, Big Sisters Association, has practically become a member of their family.

I scratch at the stubble on my chin and consider how much Nick’s life has changed since he declared he’d remain a lifelong bachelor. We’d competed at everything for so long, always focused on career and the next hot lay. Now he’s got the brass ring, and I’m just the bitter rival.

Nick’s divorce from Sophia was ugly. The only thing uglier was the fact his best pal hooked up with his soon-to-be ex. I admit I’m unsure if I’ll ever forgive myself for that transgression. That dalliance wasn’t my usual callous behavior with women. The guilt was immediate, and her self-serving ways were revealed early. There isn’t enough room in my life for more than one self-righteous bitch. I’m keeping that title all to myself.

My thoughts continue to interrupt any attempt at productivity. While Sophia had been a challenge I’d lost to Nick, pursuing her was very different than the interest I have in Isabella. There’s no doubt it was a sick fetish, allowing that tempestuous relationship to move into something sexual. It was the equivalent of a child wanting something that’d been denied by his parents, only to have it beckon him when they weren’t looking. I would’ve never acted on it had Nick and Sophia still been in a committed relationship. Yet, I admit it. I should’ve never gone near her, divorce or not, and I appreciate that Nick could forgive me for my actions, even if I can’t entirely forgive myself.

Yet, this desire to chase Isabella is primal. It’s a want I can’t contain. Having slept with her twice only deepens the longing for more. Wanting to know more about her is beginning to consume me. Who is this man she lives with, and what kind of relationship do they have? Why is there no ring? If I was living with her, she’d have the biggest fucking rock I could find.Wait. What the fuck am I saying?

Bzzz. Bzzz.

I glance at the screen and see Sam’s name flash on the screen.Holy hell. What does he want now?

“Yes,” I answer without pretending to mask my continued agitation.

“Nice, Bas. I was calling at the bequest of our mother. She’s having a dinner party and would like-”

“No,” I blurt without waiting for him to complete the sentence.

“You didn’t even-”

“Sam. I have absolutely no interest in participating in any sham dinner party she’s planning. You know as well as I do, it’s all for show. Our parents’ marriage is all for show. Her happy, wealthy existence is all for show. And we’re just her show ponies.” Silence. All I can hear is his breath through the line and wonder if I should simply disconnect the call.

“You’re right. I’ll let her know you’re unavailable.”

“Sam?” I bark.

“Yes?”

“Why do you do it? You’re a smart guy. You’d do much better to rid yourself of them and live your own life.”

“Sebastian, I’m not made of the same stuff you are.”

“Like fuck you aren’t. You’re just being lazy. Grow some damn balls and do something with your life.”

“Watch it, Bas. Just because I didn’t go off to medical school to become a hotshot surgeon doesn’t mean I’m not doing something with my life.”

“What’re you doing? Last I heard, you were running from some bimbo or her husband.”

“Listen. I only called to ask you to come to this dinner party because Mom asked me to. I know the vineyard isn’t your thing, but I’m happy there. Sure, I probably need to consider making better choices about the women I see. I can’t help that women find me attractive and throw themselves at me. I simply need to screen them better. But something tells me you aren’t in a monogamous relationship, so spare me the lecture.”

His words hit me like an anvil to the chest, and I picture Isabella smiling up at the man who greeted her in her doorway. He’s right. I need to stop the holier than thou routine.

“Sorry. I just hate to see you under their thumb,” I mutter.

---