Page 10 of My Infatuation with Isabella

Scott raises a skeptical brow. “Bullshit. We’ve been friends since high school. We workout together at least four times a week, and I’ve never seen you box.”

“I do it at home.” I lie down on the bench press and carefully lift the weights.

“How are we friends with you? We know you for so long, yet we don’t know anything about you.” Scott doesn’t expect a response to that because he just stands in front of the wall-to-wall mirror on the side of me, flexing his arms while Peter counts my reps. “So, you’re saying boxing will shape my arms like that?”

“Yeah, but you’re never gonna get those lines if you keep eating the way you do,” Peter says when I’m done with my set. “Dyl watches what he puts into his body. He eats a lot cleaner than you. His diet is for cutting and yours is for bulking. You need to cut your carbs if you want definition like that.”

I’m breathless when I sit up. “Pete, you need to do something more productive during the day. The fact that you pay more attention to what we eat than we do says that you have too much free time on your hands. Why don’t you just find a part-time gig to keep yourself busy?”

“Dyl, you work twelve-hour days and I still earn more than you. Scott has been studying for years, and when he finally finishes, he’ll still have to live with me because he won’t make enough to move out right away.”

“There are more important things in life than money.” Scott moves onto the floor. “Push-ups. Let’s go.”

Peter and I follow his lead and get into position. Even though we left high school years ago, Scott still leads our training like he’s captain of the football team.

“I have a very easy life,” Peter says between heavy exhales. “Why would Ichooseto work when I don’t need to?”

“What are you doing with your life, Pete?” I ask. “You don’t want a girlfriend. You don’t want to work. You don’t want to do...anything. Don’t you feel unfulfilled?”

“Thinking that you get fulfillment from jobs and girlfriends is a very narrow-minded view, Dylan. You have both, and you’re still unfulfilled. Fulfillment is having happiness within yourself.”

I stop in the middle of the set and move onto my knees. “What are you talking about? I’m happy. Business is great. My family is great. I have an amazing girlfriend...who’s going to be my wife soon. I amveryfulfilled.”

Scott freezes midway through a push-up, and Peter stumbles, almost hitting the floor. Maybe that wasn’t the best way to break the news to them. There’s silence for a full minute. Both of them stand up and stare at me like they’re waiting for me to tell them I’m joking. I’m not.

“Whoa. Wait. You’re really getting married?” Scott asks in disbelief. “When?”

“End of April.”

Peter’s eyes almost pop out of his head. “End of April? That’s, like, two and a half weeks from now. Don’t you think you’re rushing into this?”

“Fran and I have been dating for two years. We’re already living together. How is that rushing into things?”

“You’re still young, Dyl. Don’t you wanna...enjoy your freedom, screw a few more women before you settle down? Marriage can wait until you’re older.”

“Waiting until we’re older is just delaying an inevitability. Whether I get married this year or in five years, I’m still gonna marry Fran. Besides, she’s old school. She doesn’t want to live in sin anymore. We talked about it, and we both agreed it was time to take the next step.”

“Sounds like true love,” Scott mutters under his breath, and it immediately puts me on edge.

“I heard that. No need to be a dick. Can’t you just be happy for me?”

“No,” he replies flatly, “because this is a mistake. Dylan, as your friend, I’m telling you that this is a bad idea.”

“Why? I don’t see why you have such a problem with this. Fran loves me. I love her. I don’t?”

“I know you love her. That’s not the problem here. The problem is that the type of love you feel for Fran...is not the marrying kind of love. She’s your best friend, and I get it. You guys have been through thick and thin together, and she’s amazing, Dylan. No one is disputing that, but...” He pauses, debating how honest he should be. “Francesca is a crutch for you. She’s a...a security blanket, a comfort zone, a roommate who you happen to screw on occasion.”

My fists clench at my side, and my breathing elevates. “Watch it, Scott.”

Peter decides to intervene then, tapping my shoulder as if that will bring calm to the situation. “Cool it, Dylan.”

“Opinions are free,” Scott says with an unremorseful shrug. “You’re talking about not living in sin and taking the next step and delaying an inevitability. It’s clinical. It’s like...following due process. All of that doesn’t even sound like you. It sounds like something she would say. Dyl, Fran is pushy, and she’s pushing you into something you don’t really want to do.”

“And what makes you think I don’t want to do this?”

“You! I’m listening to you talk, and you’re saying a lot of things, but you know what you haven’t said? You haven’t said:Guys, I’m madly, desperately, head over heels in love with Fran, and I can’t wait to make her my wife. If you told me that, I’d be all for it.” He stares at me, waiting to see if I’ll say it, but I’m not going to engage in this. It’s childish.

“I know how I feel, and I know what Fran and I share. I don’t have to prove anything to you.”

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