Page 156 of Seale the Deal

Sheesh, Brandt says, leaning back. A fake engagement turned into you finding the one.

I nod once. The one doesn’t even cover it.

My life has always been filled with silence. I made it that way by design, by living in a small town and being perpetually single.

But with Wrenley, silence isn’t empty. It’s peace and warmth. It’s climbing under the heaviest quilt on the coldest night and knowing you’ll be safe until morning. This time without her has felt nothing like that. It has felt restless and raw, like some essential part of me is missing and my body hasn’t figured out how to function without it.

I still don’t get it, Brandt says. If you both want each other, why would some job matter?

Because she picked the man over her dream once before, I say. I can’t let her do that again. All I can do is put on my wedding suit, walk into the Cultural Center, and pray she’s going to be there too.

What if she decides at the last minute to not go through with it? Brandt asks. What if you show up and you don’t get married?

I pause before I answer. I’ve already asked this question to myself one hundred different times. I know what I want is to let her go quietly, and on the outside, I will. I’ll smile and tell her I’m proud of her if that’s what she needs from me. But inside, it’ll tear me apart. I’ll spend months reaching across my bed for a woman who isn’t there. I’ll see her favourite mug in my cupboard and wish I were still sharing my coffee with her. But I’ve accepted that her happiness matters more than my preferred ending.

Then it’ll be the worst day of my life, I say honestly. But I’ll learn to live with it.

Walter lifts his beer. We should toast.

What are we toasting? Brandt asks. Potential misery? The complete collapse of Ruger’s happiness?

You should never do toasts, I say.

Courage, Walter says. To whatever comes next.

Brandt arches a brow at me, waiting. Slowly, I raise my own bottle, deciding I will drink to courage, because it’s exactly what I need.

We all clink bottles and take a drink.

For the record, Walter says, I think she’s going to show up.

Brandt nods. Same.

I can’t let myself be too hopeful because it will only add to the devastation.

But still, I say, I appreciate the vote of confidence.

Your last name is Seale, Walter adds. It’d be a shame if you didn’t ‘Seale’ the deal.

Brandt and I both make a face while Walter looks proud of himself.

That was horrible, Brandt says.

Neither of you should ever do toasts, I say.

Well, too bad, Brandt says, because I’ve got one more.

Oh God.

Brandt lifts his bottle. To Ruger.

Walter raises his. To Ruger.

I stare at the two men across from me, and I can’t help the small smile that tugs at my lips. At least I have two amazing friends to help me through this, no matter how it goes.

With that thought, I lift my beer.

To me.