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Does she feel the same way he does? Was there ever a time when she did? Is there any chance that if Theo confesses his feelings for her later, she’ll leave Ben to run off into the sunset with his brother?
I can’t stop imagining the outcomes. There’s the most logical one, where Alice rejects Theo and he leaves town, heartbroken. There’s possibly the most absurd one where Alice says “I don’t” to Ben and marries his brother at the ceremony instead. But with each new scenario in which Alice runs away with Theo, I can’t shake the image of Ben’s face as he realizes he’s losing the love of his life. Of our eyes meeting across the aisle, his shining with unshed tears. I put on my most assuring expression. One that lets him know he will get through this. He’s devastated now, yes, but—
No.
I shake my head at the thought, not daring to entertain what would happen after that “but.” But nothing. He’d be devastated, heartbroken, and never trust another woman ever again. That’s the last thing he deserves. I was right to stop Theo from ruining the happiest moment of his brother’s life before it could even happen. I won’t put my own selfish feelings above his.
My sleep is little and fitful, and all too soon my phone alarm wakes me at nine. I’m not sure if I expect Theo to still be here when I step into the living room, but I’m almost surprised to find he is. Then again, where else does he have to go after last night?
He’s lying down on his back, hair mussed from sleep, eyes bleary and unfocused. His iPhone hovers an inch over his face as he scrolls. When I knock on the wall to let him know I’m here, his head snaps up from his phone.
“Want any breakfast?” I ask him.
“Sure.” He sits up. “I can never say no to food.”
“Nice to know we have one thing in common.”
Actually, make that two things.
In the kitchen, I bustle around getting coffee ingredients and decide on what to make for breakfast. I spoon grounds into a coffee filter and sprinkle the top with cinnamon. From the fridge, I grab one large potato, four eggs, a jar of my mom’s homemade tomato and jalapeño salsa, and a pack of H-E-B Bakery tortillas. I ran out of mom’s homemade ones last week. (Note to self: visit Mom soon.) I find vegetable oil and a frying pan in the bottom cabinet beside the oven, then grab a cutting board and knife from the dish rack.
“So,” I call out once the coffee’s brewing. “Do you wanna talk about it?” There’s no need to explain what it is. He might’ve been drunk off his ass, but there’s no doubt in my mind we both remember last night with startling clarity.
He grunts from the couch. “Do I have to?”
“You might feel better.” I peel off the skin of the potato with the edge of a knife. “Plus, I did save you. The least you can do is offer some sort of explanation.” And I have to admit, my curiosity is piqued. When he doesn’t say anything for a while, I add, “Whatever you say is safe with me. You don’t have to worry about me blabbing to Ben or anyone else. No one needs to know what really happened last night.”
He heaves a sigh through the half wall. I let him gather his thoughts for a moment. Finally, he says, “I’ve loved her since we were kids.” I remember him saying that last night, but I don’t tell him as much. Maybe having some sort of barrier between us helps him get the story out, because once he starts, he doesn’t stop. “She was my first friend in San Antonio, ever since we moved into the house next door to hers. I snuck into her family’s tree house and the rest is history.”
“What happened?” I ask over the sizzle of browning potatoes. I turn them over in the pan with a blue spatula.
“We lost touch when I left for college,” he says. “I was surprised she stayed in town for college. She wanted to be a political journalist. Work for the New York Times or something. We talked about it all the time, how I’d play pro football and she’d be a big-shot journalist. I never expected her to stay behind, for her and my brother…” He trails off. “Nothing turned out like I thought it would.”
“So, all this time, nothing ever happened between you two?”
“No.” Another sigh, followed by a frustrated noise from the back of his throat. “I’ve never been a big commitment guy, and she was the one girl I wanted to do right by. But she had all these big dreams, and I knew she could really achieve them. I would’ve gotten in her way, if she actually loved me back.” He pauses for so long, I almost think that’s the end of it. Then he continues, “I just wanted to know if I ever had a chance. That’s all.”
My heart aches for him. I know exactly how that feels. My nights have been long with wishes for a different reality, one where Ben and I never break up. Or one where he realizes what a mistake letting me go was. Of him running to my doorstep in the pouring rain. I was never going to be the one who took the initiative, because I knew in my heart of hearts what would happen if I did. He’d turn me down. Say he’s happy with Alice, that she’s his future, and that I’m such a good friend and beg to just stay that way.
But we wouldn’t. Not with my confession laid bare between us, which is why I’ve kept my mouth shut for as long as I have.
“A lot of shit went down before I left for college. I won’t bore you with the details, but safe to say I don’t like the way I left things.” Theo continues, “I told myself I needed a clean break. From her, from Ben, from my life here. I was only an hour away, but it’s easier to avoid people you don’t see every day. Unless they’re Alice, at least. I never could say no to her, and she’d never let me drift as far as I wanted to. ‘We’re family,’ she’d always say. Once she marries Ben, we really will be.”
I step into the living room and hand him a plate of potato and egg tacos and a mug of coffee. He thanks me as I take a seat on the couch beside him. “You must think I’m a terrible brother.”
“Not at all,” I assure him, meeting his eyes. If he’s a terrible brother, I’m a terrible friend. Or at the very least, I’d be a hypocrite to agree with him. But after hearing his story, I can tell he has a good heart. If he could stop himself from pursuing Alice because he didn’t want to distract her from her goals, he can stop himself from ruining her engagement.
“But you will be if you get in the way of his happiness. And hers. Wasn’t the point of staying out of her way to put her happiness before yours?”
His eyes widen slightly, almost as if in surprise. “Yeah,” he says, his voice breathless. He clears his throat and tries again, nodding vigorously. “God, yes. The last thing I want is to get in the way of her happiness. My brother’s, too,” he adds quickly, almost as an afterthought.
“Then you’ll never forgive yourself if you intervene,” I say. “Trust me.”
Theo nods, not asking me how I know that. I understand how he feels more than anyone can ever know. Not that I plan on telling him as much. Even though he’s opened up so much more than I thought he would, there’s still a lot I don’t know about him. I doubt he’d turn around and tell Alice or anyone else about my feelings for his brother, but what if he tries to confess again and it accidentally comes out? No, I can’t take that chance.
It does mean, however, that I’m in the perfect position to help him. I can’t possibly judge him for his feelings when I’m no better than he is.
“Yeah. You’re absolutely right.” He scrubs his face with a hand. “I owe you one, Marcela. Thank you for stopping me.”
