Page 92 of Man Cuffed
His face drops. “I’m sorry about that. You have no idea how many times I tried to, like, rewind everything in my brain. I knew that Julie and I were meant to be together. But after our first big slip-up I wanted to hold off and figure out what to do. But she…” He cuts the sentence off, unsure what he ought to say.
“She didn’t,” I try.
He hangs his head. “She said she couldn’t wait. And I was weak, man. I thought if I made it complicated, Julie wouldn’t choose me. I loved her, but I wasn’t confident. I really didn’t understand why she’d pick me in the first place. And I wasn’t willing to risk it. I’m sorry. I knew I fucked everything up. I knew it even before you walked in that night.”
And I am speechless. That’s a whole lot of honesty from a man that I thought wasn’t capable of it. For ten years I made up my own stories to explain his behavior. That’s a long time to live in your own reality. I’d gotten real good at it.
I clear my throat. “Well, I wasn’t going to stand you up tonight. Because I want to know my nephew. I might be a shit boyfriend and I’m never having kids. But I could be a good uncle.”
He swallows hard. “Okay,” he says. “I want you to be that. We could hang out without Julie. You know, if that’s weird.”
“Eh.” I shake my head. “Maybe it doesn’t have to be weird. I can barely remember being twenty-five. It really feels like ancient history.”
“Okay.” We both take twin gulps of shitty beer, because that’s a lot of talking for us. “You really think you’re never getting married?”
“Nah. Old dog. No new tricks.”
He sighs. “I don’t believe that, though. If my dumb ass can stay married, surely you can give it a whirl.”
I take a swig of the nonalcoholic beer. It’s actually growing on me.
I could do a lot of things here. Change the subject. Joke around. Bring up things from childhood. But something in me fights against all that. My brother and I have already lost most of our adult lives to fighting. I don’t want to lose another lifetime in not being honest with him. “I broke it off with Meg.”
Morris nods. “She do something stupid?”
“Nah,” I say.
“Then why’d you break it off with her?”
“Because she’s…” I pause here. What am I supposed to say? Because things were getting too real? Because I wanted her too much? Because when I stopped long enough to envision a future life for myself, I envisioned waking up next to her? “I honestly don’t know,” I say. “I think she’s just too perfect for me.”
“That bitch!” Morris says, and he smiles.
“Yeah. She’s kind and hot and passionate. And she’s so much trouble.” Now I’m smiling too.
“You always did like trouble.”
“Yep.”
Morris looks a little awkward. Something I’m not used to seeing. “You know, let me offer you a little advice here. As your big brother, I feel it’s my duty to do so.”
“You’re my big brother by two minutes!”
“And so much wiser than you.”
I shake my head. This is good. I’ve...missed this. “Okay, so what’s your advice?”
“Apologize. Make it up to her. Do whatever you can to get her to come back to you, because if she’s too perfect for you, then she’s the one that’s going to keep you on your toes. She’s going to make you want to be a better person. She’ll call you on your shit and she won’t settle for anything less than the best. And that’s what you need, Mac.”
“I need to be challenged?”
“Yeah. You need someone to rescueyou.”
* * *
My brotherand I shoot the shit some more. I have another beer, a real one this time, and we leave things with an impressive dude-hug and a promise to get together soon. And...it’s easy. Surprisingly so.
When I get home, I’m looking forward to crawling into bed with Meg and then I remember. That’s not an option anymore. And it’s not even possible. She’s not even here.
