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Maybe it was hopeless. He’d tried his best to make her see and convince her of his conviction. What else could he do or say? Perhaps he’d been right all those years ago—she was better off without him.
He arrived back at John’s apartment after five PM thanks to heavier-than-usual traffic coming into San Diego. He was emotionally and physically drained from both the drive and talking to Vee. All he wanted to do was have a fucking drink then go to bed. He opened up the front door to find John sitting at the small table in the kitchen. In front of him were about a dozen architect drafts.
“You’re home early,” he said by way of greeting.
John nodded. “Yeah. I wasn’t feeling too great this afternoon, so my boss told me to go home early. Where’ve you been?”
Beau took a seat at the table. “West Hollywood.”
His friend whistled through his teeth. “Evangeline?” At Beau’s nod, he asked, “How did it go?”
“Well, I told her the truth about what really happened four years ago,
and I told her my mom had passed.”
“How’d she take that news? They were pretty tight, right?”
“Right. She was upset—wanted to know why I didn’t try to call and tell her.”
“Why didn’t you?”
He shrugged. “I was still dealing with guilt from what I said to her.”
John set aside the draft he was looking at, giving Beau his full attention. “And whathadyou said to her?”
He swallowed over the lump in his throat, ready to come clean to his best friend. “I told her I didn’t love her, that I didn’t want her and we needed to see other people.”
“Fuck,” John replied, shaking his head. “That’s cold, man.”
“Yeah.” Beau was swamped with guilt. Standing up abruptly, he went to the fridge and took out two beers. He placed one in front of John.
“Why the fuck did you tell her that?”
Beau drank about half his beer in one hit. “I couldn’t give her what she deserved, man.” John didn’t say anything to that, letting him talk. “I was an unemployed college dropout looking after his terminally ill mother. Why would she want to stay with me?”
“Ah, because she fucking loved you, you asshole.”
“Loved, past tense. She doesn't want to have anything to do with me now.”
“And you’re just going to take that as her final answer? Really? I saw what you two were like in college. You were so in love…” He snatched the beer and took a drink. “I was so jealous of what you two had.”
Now it was Beau’s turn to be surprised. “You were?”
“Of course. You guys had this chemistry that was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing.” He shrugged. “But if you want to just give up on that, then that’s your decision.”
“It’s what’s best.”
“Bullshit. You want her back; I know you do.”
“It doesn't matter what I want. Vee has told me in no uncertain terms that she doesn’t want me.”
“What happened to the Beau I used to know—the one who didn’t take no for an answer and who went after what he wanted in life?”
Stunned and a little angry, Beau snapped, “He died when my mom got sick.”
John just shook his head. “Don’t let your mom’s illness be an excuse for you not to live your life. Do you think that’s what she’d want?”
Beau huffed. “No.”
