“Ditto. And James knows that. Which is not necessarily a good thing. Between that and all the shit with my family and the pastor and everything else that’s gone wrong with the planning . . .” She sighed. “Things have been strained between us lately.”
“Yeah, I figured. But not enough to end it all, right?” Andrew almost didn’t want to hear the answer. So many of his decisions that had led to this point had been made because of his envy of Elle and James’s bliss. He wasn’t naïve enough to believe happy couples never broke up, but he'd wanted what they had for so long, it was hard to think it might be over.
Elle shook her head, then shrugged, then shook her head firmer. “No. Not over. I love him so much. It’s just that he’s being such an unbelievable dick right now.”
“Not going to argue with you about that.” Andrew hadn’t meant to sound bitter, but it happened all the same.
“Tell me exactly what happened on Saturday. James wasn’t very clear and Troy’s gone mute. He won’t speak to James, barely talks to me or Carly. She’s worried about him.”
Really not wanting to revisit the whole thing, Andrew told her anyway. If anyone was going to be able to look at it with a level head, it was Elle.
“So, you and Brian are together?” she asked gently when he was done.
“I hope so. We were, but after Saturday, it’s a bit doubtful.” He wouldn’t tell her why. That was Brian’s prerogative.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. I don’t know if it’s anyone’s fault.” He shrugged. “Well, I’m pretty happy blaming James for a few things.”
“I don’t know. You could have tried keeping your hands off Brian’s arse for a couple of hours. Especially if you didn’t want anyone to know.” For the first time, there was a hint of reproach in Elle’s tone.
“I know. But have you ever felt his arse? It’s hard to resist.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Sorry. Yes, I shouldn’t have got carried away.” Andrew started gathering up the breakfast dishes. “When should I talk to James?” He was still pissed and didn’t really want to deal with James any time soon, but he couldn’t stop replaying Brian’s thoughtless words about him not fighting for them, or himself. Angry or not, he didn’t want to get into a yelling match or anything physical with James, but maybe Brian was right. Maybe it was time Andrew spoke up.
“Probably not for a while. He’s pretty steamed at me right now, too, remember.” Elle joined him in the kitchen, filling the sink to wash up.
They did the dishes and then snuggled on the couch to watch a movie. Halfway through Sahara, Elle was asleep with her head in Andrew’s lap and he was fiddling with his phone. He wanted to call Brian, beg him to come home, and they would sort everything out together. But he needed to talk to James more right then. Set him straight, firmly, and not back down when James tried to accuse him of things he’d never done.
While Matthew McConaughey raced a plane-turned-land yacht across a desert, Andrew tapped out a message to James.
‘I’m sorry for ruining your bach party. That’s the last thing I wanted. I’m honestly happy for you and Elle, always have been, and it was an honour to be asked to be your best man. However you feel about me now, I’ll always be your friend, but we need to talk.’
He read it, edited it, reread it, nearly deleted it, then hit send before he could chicken out completely. Hopefully James would actually read it and do so with more patience than he’d had at the paintball place.
Within a minute, James replied. ‘You didn’t ruin anything. I did. I’d like to blame stress but . . . Yes to talk. Your place tomorrow morning? I’ll bring juice.’
Hoping this was a good sign, Andrew tapped out, ‘Sounds cool. See you then,’ and hit send. He got a thumbs up in response.
When Elle woke up he didn’t tell her about messaging James. It felt promising, but he didn’t want to get her hopes up in case he or James messed up again. Instead, they watched movies for the rest of the day. Andrew didn’t pay much attention, thoughts sliding from the upcoming talk with James, how to get Elle out of the house the following morning so James didn’t run into her, and how he could make sure Brian decided to give him another chance. He was still distracted when his phone rang and he answered without checking the number.
“Andrew, it’s Marie from the office. How are you feeling?”
Andrew immediately muted Jurassic World so she wouldn’t hear the loud dinosaur sounds. “Bit better. Why?”
“We were hoping you would be well enough to come into the Ashmore office tomorrow. A person from HR will be here and they would like to talk to you about the incident at the Palm Beach build the other week.”
Stomach churning, Andrew asked, “How long will it take?”
“Shouldn’t be too long. Maybe an hour or two. I know you’re not well, but the sooner this is sorted out, the sooner we can make sure nothing like this happens again and you can come back to work with us on the coast.”
He agreed to be in at eleven and hung up. A second potentially disastrous talk in one day. If Brian decided to get in touch tomorrow, it would be a pretty big trifecta.
Getting Elle out of the way in the morning took care of itself when she announced she had to go make wedding cancelations in person. On her way out, she very casually asked about Brian’s roster, nodding when Andrew told her he should be on day shifts, then she was gone without further explanation. Half wondering if warning Brian about an in-coming Elle would get him ticks in the pro or con column, Andrew paced the living room, waiting for James and psyching himself up for the coming conversation.
When James showed up he had four different flavours of organic juice in his arms and a very contrite expression on his face. “I’m sorry.”
Fighting the urge to just tell James it was all good, Andrew let him in and they spent a couple of minutes picking which juice to drink. Andrew solved it by making a mix of all of them. They sat in the living room, Andrew on the couch, James in a single chair, and sipped the concoction. It tasted better than Andrew had been expecting.
“Um, so I have to say I’m sorry.” James sat on the very edge of the seat, focused on the glass he was rolling between his hands. “I was a dickhead the other day. Still a bit drunk and really fucking surprised to see you and Brian like that. Elle and I haven’t been clicking as much lately, either. All the stress, you know, and then she wouldn’t tell me why she was crying that day you came out to us at the Spit and I started wondering if she maybe still felt something for you, or . . .” He shrugged. “The way she was being all sad and quiet then was how she was just after she broke up with you and I probably jumped to conclusions.”
“No probably. You did jump to conclusions,” Andrew interjected, determined to speak up and be heard this time. “All the wrong ones.”
James’s cheeks turned pink and he took a big gulp of juice. “I know. But it’s understandable, right? Even a little bit?”
Andrew’s instinct was to say “yes” and get them past this moment. They’d still be friends and James would go on thinking everything was fine and Andrew would . . . well, he’d deal with it, like always.