Imperfectly Perfect (18 page)

I sat there in silence, thinking about the mess that I had made. I'd waited too long, and now it was too late. But most importantly she was moving on, without me. Gone were the days of dance parties, poker nights, and Movie Night Madness. Emma would no longer be just down the hall.

The thing that hurt the most though was that I knew how this would play out. We'd start off making a point to meet up once a month, and then the visits would get less and less frequent until finally we stopped talking all together. Emma would no longer be a part of my life; only my past.

I shook my head and looked over to Rob. "I guess I've got to figure out how to get my shit together. You got any ideas?"

"Ideas?! You're kidding me right? I'm the king of ideas!" He stood up and opened the door. "Go get your pretty face ready, we're having a boys' night!"

An hour later Tyler, Rob and myself were out the door hitting the streets of the city. You may think I'm a heartless bastard right about now; my best friend, whom I secretly loved, had just told me she was moving out and I responded in the typical male way of dealing with things by ignoring it. I thought she would be feeling it too but as we walked out the door she was curled up on the couch with her boyfriend watching a movie so I'm guessing-as far as she was concerned-all was right in her world. And that was my motivation.

"So where are we going tonight?" I questioned once we hit the streets.

"Sports Tavern," Rob answered, "it's five cent wing and two dollar draft night."

I thanked Tyler and Rob. They didn't have to ask for what, because they knew it was for everything. They had listened to me bitch and moan way more than they should have. I promised myself that now that Emma had made things perfectly clear, I would be a better friend to hang around; there would be no more pining and whining.

We walked into the Tavern and it was packed. College kids were crowded around tables talking loudly over the music. We squeezed in finding three seats at the bar.

Before our order of beer and wings even came out we were surrounded by a group of young girls-probably in their early twenties-all of them smoking hot.

"So, like, do you guys come here often?" asked Blondie #1.

I rolled my eyes at Tyler, who chuckled to himself.

"When we're not busy with work," Rob answered.

"What do you do for work?" Blondie #2 questioned.

"I'm a sports announcer," Tyler replied, "and they're both lawyers."

"Nice," said Blondie #3, her interest clearly piqued. "Can we buy you guys a drink?"

"Well, we're kind of having a..." I started to attempt to put them off, but Rob kicked me under the bar.

"Sure," Rob interjected. "How about some shots?"

"I love shots!" said Blondie #1.

Blondie #2 motioned for the bartender. "We'll take six slippery nipples."

These girls were definitely on the prowl. I knew I needed to take a step off my soapbox and start living again and this seemed like the perfect opportunity. Emma had decided what direction her life was going; it was time I did the same.

I threw my arm around Blondie #2's neck.

"I love slippery nipples," I whispered. And just like that, I recovered the Casanova persona that I had abandoned so many months ago.

It was close to 2 a.m. when we stumbled into the condo with all three blondes in tow. It had been a good night for the boys and I. We hadn't pulled girls like this since college, and it felt good to know we still had it.

The girls giggled as we searched for drinks and glasses in the kitchen. Tyler dropped a glass on the kitchen floor, cussing as it shattered.

A door flew open upstairs, immediately followed by lights being snapped on. We froze as we realized that Emma must have been home. We had assumed that she would have gone to Bradley's. Shit.

She appeared at the top of the stairs wearing her sweats, her blonde hair a mess piled on top of her head. I clenched my jaw, because-as fucked up as it sounds-in that moment I hated her and I hated that I loved her. I hated that she couldn't see it, but mostly I hated that she didn't love me too.

"What the fuck are you guys doing?" she asked, placing her hands on her hips, obviously annoyed.

I jumped at the opportunity to argue with her, "Just having a little fun Emma. What's it to you?"

At this point everyone-including our guests-became very uncomfortable. You could feel the tension in the room. The blondes were confused, and I assumed they thought she was the girlfriend of one of us. They started to gather their things in an attempt to leave before things escalated.

I kept my eyes locked on Emma's and in my drunken state I wanted to make her hurt like she hurt me. "No," I said to the girls. I was determined to make a point. "Stay."

They froze.

"I live here," she steamed, "that's what it is to me."

"
You
don't live here anymore," I seethed, "so don't act like you care about what's going on."

As I watched the hurt wash across her face, I knew my mission had been accomplished. I knew I was wrong, but it was too late now. Tyler flew past me up the stairs, flanking Emma's side. He placed his hand on her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. He stared at me, silently letting me know that I had gone too far.

"I may not live here anymore," she began shrugging Tyler's hand away, "but I will always care about you guys. But if you want to act like a bunch of idiots with these three bimbos, go ahead."

I tore my eyes from her; unable to watch her hurting any longer. "That's exactly what I want to do," I lied.

"Fine," she choked running her fingers under her eyes. "Can you at least keep it down?"

I watched helplessly as she stormed away. I had been a dumbass and probably put the final nail in my coffin, but I refused to let it keep me down. So, I put on a brave face and turned around.

"Now ladies, how about those drinks?"

Once I closed the door to my room the tears started streaming down my face. What had happened back there? Shane and I were never the ones to fight-in fact I don't really remember
ever
having words like that. Shane's face had been filled with hatred as he spat those harsh words at me. Lately, it seemed like all we did was disagree.

Sure, I had been spending a lot of time with Bradley the last few months and perhaps I had let our friendship fall a bit to the wayside, but I did not deserve to be treated like that.

I walked across my room and climbed back into my bed when there was a knock on the door. Obviously Shane had realized he had been an ass-yet again-and was coming to apologize.

"Go away Shane!" I called. "I'm done hearing your weak ass apologies."

"It's Tyler."

Oddly enough, even though I really didn't want to speak to Shane at the moment, I was disappointed that it wasn't him.

"You can come in Ty," I said quickly wiping my face clean with my sheets.

The door opened slightly and Tyler crept into the room; obviously he didn't want the asshole downstairs to know he was talking to me.

"Come to attempt to patch things up for your boy?" I mocked.

"No, he's made his bed," Tyler said as he sat with a thud on the edge of my bed, "and now he can lie in it."

I felt the lump in my throat return. "What did I do Tyler?" I struggled to speak.

"You didn't do anything Em," he said bending down to kiss my forehead. "Shane's just going through some shit and it doesn't help that he's drunk."

"He used to talk to me about stuff," I sniffed, "not use me as his human punching bag."

"Well," Tyler said standing up, "you haven't exactly been available lately."

"Why can't he just be happy for me?" I asked.

Tyler stopped at the door. He seemed deep in thought; as if trying to think of the right way to answer.

"That's really all he wants Em," he said while turning the doorknob. "He just wants for you to be happy."

My defenses shot up, "And I am."

"I really hope so Em," he answered, closing the door behind him as he left the room.

And with that I was alone again.

Why did it feel like I was stuck in the middle? Couldn't I be happy with Bradley and still maintain my relationships with the only friends I had ever known? I was determined to be able to have the best of both worlds and I wasn't about to let either one slip through my fingers.

"That's the last one I guess." My voice echoed through the empty room as I handed Tyler the box. I glanced around at the vast emptiness; I hadn't seen the condo like this in years. It reminded me of the day we moved in. We spent the entire day lugging boxes, to the point where we passed out on the floor of the living room, never really regaining motivation. I'm pretty sure we lived that entire first week sleeping amongst a sea of boxes.

I wiped a tear from my eye. I was thrilled beyond belief that I was finally getting everything I wanted; I was going to start a life with the man of my dreams. At the same time I felt hurt and abandoned during a time that should have been filled with excitement and congratulations.

Shane had made himself scarce over the last week. I hadn't really seen him since our stupid spat. He claimed that he was hammered at work but it honestly felt as though he just didn't want to be around. I didn't understand why he just couldn't be happy for me. But at least I had Tyler...and of course I had Bradley.

"I'll carry this down to the truck," Tyler said, "take your time."

He turned solemnly, and headed out the door down to the moving truck where Bradley was waiting.

I thought about all the good times we had had while I lived here with the guys. I was going to miss it all; the poker games, Rob's endless string of noisy female visitors, champagne nights, and movie madness. But the thing that I was going to miss the most was how safe I felt here. I had lived here for years and I always knew that I was protected, and that people cared about me. Yet here I was leaving that all behind and taking a risk for love. True Love.

"Hey."

I didn't have to turn around to know he was there. I smiled at the sound of his voice. I had missed him lately, and to be honest I didn't know how I was going to get by with out seeing him every day. I had grown to depend on Shane for support through troubling times, but now Bradley would take on that responsibility.

"I'm sorry for being such a jerk," he said resting his hand on my shoulder. He gave it a gentle squeeze. "It's just...I'm going to miss you like crazy, that's all."

"Silly, I'm just moving uptown." I spun on my heels and wrapped my arms around Shane's neck. "You'll still see me," I choked, "I promise."

"I know," he stuttered and grabbed my wrists pulling my arms down to my side, seemingly bothered by my contact, "it's just not ever going to be the same, you know."

I felt a pang of guilt because I knew he was right. Nothing would ever be the same. We would never be roommates again. He wouldn't pick me up from the airport anymore. I wouldn't need him like I had for the past twenty years and perhaps we were both a little more bothered by that than we should have been.

"But we've all got to move on, right? We can't pretend we're twenty forever. I want you to know that I really am happy for you Em." he paused, leaning down to kiss me on the cheek, "you'll always be my best friend."

"You too Shane." I wiped a stray tear from my face. "Damn it. I promised myself I wouldn't cry." I chuckled, reaching up to hug him again.

Our hug was as short lived as it was awkward. Shane pulled back; quickly wiping at his face with the back of his hand and my heart broke knowing he was hurting. But I couldn't let the sadness control me; this was a happy moment and our tears were tears of joy.

"Well I've got to go back to work, I just wanted to say..." he took a deep breath filling the room with tension, "that, um, I'll see you later."

"Definitely," I replied, "you can call me anytime."

"Yeah, I'll do that." he started to stalk out the room with his hands jammed in his suit pocket.

"Shane?" I called. Deep down I knew what he needed to hear. He needed validation. He needed to know that even though things would be different, our relationship would always be there. Nobody could erase all those memories.