Page 163 of All This Time

I meet Rhonan’s eyes, seeing the same remorse in his that I feel in my own chest before turning back to Laney. “I think we’ll be okay, baby.”

“You’d better.” She presses up on her toes and kisses me once more before turning and leaving the office.

George clears his throat. “Let me introduce you to some friends of mine.” I follow him deeper into the room. “This is Anthony Gonzalez,Brian Thomas, and Henry Collins. Gentlemen, I’m sure you remember Fletcher Adams.”

Anthony stands up from his seat first to shake my hand. “We’ve actually met before when you were younger, and I’ve been following your career. Congrats on the success.”

“Thank you.” I reach out to shake the hands of the other two men as well, and that’s when I realize I’ve also met them.

“I’ve asked my friends to be here tonight to hopefully get through to you guys,” George says as he takes his seat at the blackjack table. It’s at that moment that I glance in Henley’s direction as he acknowledges me with a nod, and then when I take in Elliot, my chest fucking hurts.

He looks like shit—dark circles under his eyes, his hair a mess, and a beard growing on his jaw that he clearly hasn’t shaved since the wedding.

“What is there to get through to us about?” Elliot grates out. “I think we can all agree that we aren’t as good of friends as we thought.”

“Elliot,” I start, but his glare makes me pause.

“No. Don’t try to come up with some excuse, Fletcher. You fucking lied to us all, not only about Laney, but also about Tori. I was acting like a lovesick idiot while you knew she’d left.”

Sighing, I fold my hands together and rest them on the table in front of me. “You’re right. I did. I kept shit from all of you, but I wouldn’t take it back.”

He tilts his head at me. “Really? So you’re perfectly fine with lying to your best fucking friends?”

George chimes in. “Can I say something really quick?”

Elliot leans back in his chair, his icy glare still apparent. “Fine.”

“You know, the four of you remind me so much of Anthony, Brian, Henry, and myself.” George chuckles. “Best friends from a young age, but that doesn’t mean that our friendship has always been perfect.”

Anthony nods. “In fact, I don’t think we realized what true friendship was until George lost Elizabeth.”

Rhonan looks back at his dad. “What is he talking about?”

George leans forward. “It’s easy to think being someone’s friend is enough when life is good. But when life gets hard, or in my case, borderline unbearable, that’s when friendship is truly tested.” He juts his chin toward the other three men. “If it weren’t for them, I’m not sure I would have survived losing my wife.”

“But you were strong after Mom died,” Rhonan says.

“Because of them, son. Anthony came over and dragged me out of the house. He took me to her grave, made me talk about her, and made sure that I was fucking eating.”

“And after you left for the Marines, I took your father to a therapist,” Brian says. “My wife is the one that suggested it, but I’m the one that picked him up for his appointments and took him home to make sure he actually went.”

“You never told me this,” Rhonan says.

“Well, you were gone, and I didn’t want you to know how badly I was struggling. I regret that now. In fact, I think as men we need to be more honest about how much we struggle with shit life hands us. We’re human, too.”

Elliot glances at Henry. “Is that why you were at the winery so much during that first year after Elizabeth died?”

Henry nods. “Yup. I was making sure the business was staying intact while George found his new normal.”

My friends and I all exchange glances.

“So, the reason I’m bringing this up is because I think all four of you are dealing with shit right now, and I want to remind you that instead of questioning your friendship, this is when you lean on it.”George nods toward his friends. “Loyalty, promises, and history mean nothing if there isn’t action behind it.”

He turns to Elliot. “And as for your ‘pact,’” he says, putting air quotes around the word, “there is no reason why any of you should be angry about that. For one, you were fourteen when you made it, and two, there is no way for you to predict how life can change in an instant. I think your new pact should be to work through your shit, trust that your bond is stronger than you realize, and then agree to be there for each other, even when shit gets hard.”

George and his friends stand from the table, but Brian speaks next. “I know we’re not your fathers, but as men who’ve been around longer than you, maybe trust that we know a thing or two. And if worse comes to worst, consider therapy, gentlemen. It’s life-changing.”

The four of them head for the door, leaving me and my best friends alone.