Page 24 of Closer

“Did you miss the part where you married someone else? You don’t get to tell me what to do.” I rev the engine. Her eyes narrow into slits.

“God, for one second could you stop being such a spoiled child. This is my wedding, Levi. I don’t expect you to like it, but I do expect you to put up and shut up because if the situation were reversed, I’d have given you this. I wouldn’t enjoy it.” She gives a derisive laugh. “Hell, I’d probably be drunk off my arse too, but I’d give you this day. I’m just sad that you couldn’t see past your hatred for Coop to do the same for me.”

I shake my head. She’s right. I know she’s right, but I can’t let it go the way she could. I’m not as good as she is. “More fool me, right? For loving you so much I actually give a shit that you’re marrying someone else.”

“Married,” she says quietly, blinking back tears.

“What?”

“I married someone else. It isn’t going to go away. I can’t undo it. I don’t want to undo it.” She reaches out and strokes my cheek. I pull away. “I love him. I chose him.”

“Kinda got that, Red, what with you standing there in a wedding dress with his ring on your finger.”

“Then please, just try and be happy for me, because you’re breaking my heart right now.”

I take a deep breath, swallow back the lump in my throat and nod. “I’m only this much of an arsehole because I love you.”

“I know. I don’t know how to fix it, or how to fix you and Coop. I tried to walk away from you both, but I need you in my life, Levi.” Tears spill freely down her cheeks. “I know that doesn’t make sense, and if I could live without you both I would, but ...”

“You don’t have to live without both of us, just me.”

“Levi—”

“I can’t do it. I can’t stay here. Not tonight. Not knowing that he gets to put his hands on you, to have you, and keep you.” I slam the gearstick into drive.

“Don’t do this, please, you’re drunk,” Ali begs. “Give me the keys.”

“I love you, Red.” I rev the engine and take off.

“Levi,” she screams, running after me. I glance in the rear-view mirror. Tears blurring my vision as they stream down my face, I navigate the narrow drive to the gates of the estate and the steep hairpin turns of the road thereafter. I have no idea where I’m going, or how long I’ve been behind the wheel, but I’ll drive until I run out of road. I’ll drive until I can forget her, until this wedding and the things I said—the things I did—no longer haunt me.

Or I would have if I hadn’t lost control. If my screeching tires didn’t slide on the asphalt, and the front of my very expensive hire car didn’t fold like paper as it smacked headfirst into a brick building. Between the liquor and the adrenalin, the pain in my ribs, and the willingness to just let go, my thoughts aren’t coherent. There’s no fight or flight. There’s no desire to do anything at all but sleep, and as Ali’s tear-streaked face flashes before my eyes—as my life flashes before my eyes—I know I fucked up.

Big time.

Again.

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