Page 63 of Had To Be You

“Tomato, fucking tomahto. It’s semantics.” I argue the point, something I enjoy doing, then drain the rest of my beer. My brother looks unconvinced. I want so badly to get the hell out of here, to get in my car and drive, to forget all about Ellie and this pain in my chest. She lied to me and over what? Didn’t she know I would have understood? I could have helped her. I would have been on her side. Now, all I feel is betrayal, knowing that what we had was built on a lie.

“We are going to need something stronger than a couple of cold ones to get you through this.” Miles gets up and fumbles through my kitchen, returning with a bottle of Jack Daniels and three shot glasses. For the first time tonight, I actually agree with my little brother. He lines them up, pours three shots and we each down them. The Jack burns my throat but leaves me on edge. I need it to burn. I grab the bottle, pouring two more. I start with one and then another, trying to erase the memories of Ellie.

“She’s under your skin, man,” Parker says.

“Why the hell would you say that?” I know Parker is not at fault, but I’m still so angry that I just want to lash out, at anyone.

“You will argue to the death about anything.” He shakes his head at me.

“It’s my fucking job to, dick-shit.”

“Back to the point at hand. I said it because until Ellie, I’ve only ever seen you give a fuck about work and family. But you care about her. We’ve all seen it. You’ve never really cared about a woman. You have been the Olympic gold medal winner of fuck’em and chuck’em for as long as I can remember, and that all changed the night of my party at the beach house. You’ve been crazy about that girl for months. Admit it, Liam. There’s something about her that’s different from all the rest,” Parker says, tapping the edge of his empty shot glass against the coffee table.

My eyes focus on the bottle of Jack on the table. I wonder if I’ll ever find the answers I need, if I’ll ever be able to get over the one woman I could actually see a future with. I try to shake off the questions circling through my head. I’ve never wanted a future or a commitment or any of the other crap that comes along with a relationship. I like my balls right where they are, not in the hands of a woman who has the power to bring me right to my knees.

“Pour me another.” I feel a million emotions all at once. I look around the room and everything makes me think of Ellie. I remember bringing her here, I remember bending her over the dining table. The look in her goddess eyes, that desire and want just as strong now as the day I first saw her. I rub my hands over my eyes. This isn’t helping. Keep drinking, Liam. You’ll feel a hell of a lot better.

“Don’t walk away over this. You can work this out. She can fix this. Shit - you are the guy to help her fix this. She tried, Liam. You said it yourself, the asshole made it impossible for her to get a divorce,” Miles says.

My head feels like it’s taken a ride on the tilt a whirl, spun too fast. I’m full of rage, doubts, questions. I like my life a certain way. I like to be in control. I like schedules and order, and everything in perfect, predictable, neat little piles. But right now, my life is anything but. It’s a mess. I guess that’s what I get for letting someone in.

I push up off the couch and walk to the glass doors overlooking the yard, needing space, needing air to breathe. Murphy follows me, dropping to my feet sensing there’s something wrong. Man’s best friend and all that shit.

Memories from our first day together eating lunch on the patio hit me out of nowhere. I can still see her long legs stretched out on the lawn chair, throwing the ball for Murphy. I can still smell the scent of her shampoo, I can taste her on my lips. I curse under my breath, pissed at myself for letting her in. Like I ever had a choice.

Ellie had my number from the start. I never stood a chance.

“Ellie accepts your broody shit, she deals with your tantrums. She loves you, bro. You need to be a man about this and admit you love her too,” Parker says.

How do I tell them that I fell for Ellie? That I fell in love with her and saw the white picket fence and all the rest of the crap that I never wanted? That I didn’t want to run in the opposite direction when she agreed it was just us? But I trust my brothers. I should be able to tell them.

“You need to get out of your head. You love her. Forgive her. This can all be worked out. Sure, she fucked up, but ultimately is what she did really that unforgiveable?” Miles adds as I blink away the old images of a future with Ellie. “Drink tonight until you can no longer feel, then sleep it off and wake up tomorrow and remember what fucking matters. Ellie.”

“Pour,” I demand. “I need another.”

I flop onto the couch next to Parker, my jaw still clenched. I keep going back to what could have been with Ellie. She’s the only thing I can see. The only thing that I want. The only thing I can’t have. I clink my glass with my brothers.

“To forgetting,” I say.

“To forgetting,” they reply, and we all toss back the shots. The warm amber liquid feels like a blanket around my soul.

The only thing that will make me feel any better is polishing off this bottle, numbing the pain and forgetting about this hole in my heart that is making me a miserable bastard. So, I knock back another, and another after that, looking for answers at the bottom of a glass. But even the damn bottle tastes like her, feels like her teeth scraping over my shoulder when she’s coming undone. She’s in my head and fuck if I know how to get her out of it. Turns out my whiskey-jumbled brain isn’t helping.

“Listen,” Parker says. “Do what you want. I’ll be here to support you with whatever you decide. But man, I’ve never seen you happier than when you’re with her. That’s all I’m saying.”

I raise my hands in surrender and give my brothers a hard look, signalling the end of this interrogation.

I thought a drink would get her off my mind, but I’m not sure that I will ever be able to erase this never-ending highlight reel of thoughts about Ellie. No hangover will ever be enough to make me forget her. I miss her. Hell, my dick misses her. I’m reminded of her everywhere. The crossword puzzle she left here sits on the side table, her hair scrunchie is on my bathroom counter. My bedsheets still smell like her, the ones I haven’t been able to wash because I’m afraid of losing that scent. There’s only one way to fix this - sell this house or set it on fire. I need to be somewhere that doesn’t constantly remind me of her.

I miss the sound of her voice. How did her voice become the one I want to hear at the end of a long day? I miss her sarcastic comebacks when I’ve said something to rile her up. I miss her quiet smile, the one that undoes me and strips me bare.

I just miss Ellie.

Fucking Ellie.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Ellie

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