Page 56 of Comeback
“You can’t blame yourself for that,” Emma said, her voice sympathetic but firm. “Of course you’d be upset! You were planning on marrying that girl, and your best friend was sleeping with her? That’s two hugebetrayals, Jack. I know you feel guilty, but it isnotyour fault.”
It kinda is, though,I thought to myself. If Emma knew a few key details I’d left out, she’d feel the same.
“Anyway,” I continued, “long story short, I freaked out, and Soupy left the party. But he waswaytoo drunk to drive. He lost control of his car and smashed into a power pole. Pronounced dead at the scene.”
“Jesus.” She touched the back of her hand to my stubbled cheek. “I’m so sorry. I don’t even know what to say.
“Me neither,” I admitted. “I don’t know what to say to anyone about it. That’s why I don’t talk about it.”
A long silence followed.
“What about your fiancée?” Emma asked. “Megan, right?”
“Out of everyone, she seemed to be the hardest hit by Soupy’s death. Imagine that.”
“But did you confront her about the affair?”
“The day of Soupy’s funeral, I told her the engagement was off. She asked why and I told her she knew why.”
“And what’d she say?”
“‘You knew?’ ” I chuckled. “That’s all I needed to hear. I didn’t need to ask her about it. The thought of those two together made me sick to my stomach.”
“What about your teammates? Did you tell them about the affair?”
“No,” I said.
“Why not? Maybe it would’ve helped?”
“Because everyone was in mourning. All anybody could talk about was what agreatguy Soupy was. ‘How could this happen to him?’ ‘Oh, if only it could’ve been me instead of him!’ That kind of thing. I couldn’t sit there and listen to that shit. I couldn’t even look ‘em in the eye.”
“I don’t blame you. That would be hard to hear.” She touched my hand. “You must’ve felt awfully alone.”
“Yeah. You have to understand something else, too. Soupy was a very popular guy in the room—everyone loved him. Yeah, he was my best friend, but he had a way of making everyone feel like they were his best friend. I don’t mean that in a negative way. I’m sure everyonewashis best friend, in his mind. That’s just the kind of guy he was.”
She bobbed her head. “I know the type.”
“Okay, so, best case scenario? My teammates didn’t know about the affair. And then, while they’re still mourning Soupy’s death, I have to tell them the kind of guy our beloved teammatereallywas—the kind of guy who would fuck his teammate’s fiancée behind everyone’s back. Now everyone has to wonder—because who knows? Maybe he’d slept with some of the other wives and girlfriends, too?”
“Oof,” she said.
“I didn’t have the heart to do that to his memory. It felt like killing him asecondtime.” I groaned. “Part of me still loves the guy. Part of me hates his guts. There’s a lot of conflicting emotions going on all at once.”
“I can only imagine,” she said, her brow weighed down with sympathy.
“Theworstcase scenario, though,” I began, “is the far more likely scenario: my teammates knew Soupy was banging Megan all along. And not a singleoneof them cared enough to tell me. I’m supposed to go to war with these guys, when not a single guy in that room had my back? Forget it. They’re dead to me, too.”
“Why is that the more likely scenario?” she asked.
“Because. A teammate boning another guy’s fiancée? Things like that don’t happen without the boys knowing.”
Her eyes narrowed at me. “How are you so sure?”
“There are twenty-two guys on a team, Emma, and we’re all closer than brothers. No, I don’t have concrete proof, butsomeonein that room probably knew about it. You can take my word for it—I know how locker rooms operate. Someone in the roomalwaysknows. Nothing is ever truly secret.”
“But Soupy was yourbest friend, and you didn’t know …”
“Obviously, he wouldn’t tell me—it wasmyfiancée he was banging.”
