Page 93 of All This Time

Defensiveness rushes through me. Tilting my head to the side, I say, “You think my life has been easy?”

“You know what I mean…”

“No, I don’t. Please elaborate.”

A heavy sigh leaves his lips. “Look, I just meant you haven’t loved and lost like I have.” He waves a hand up and down in my direction. “You’ve never even had a serious relationship, right?”

He’s correct, but that’s only because the one person I ever wanted that with never got a chance to hear that from me.

“And you like it that way—unattached and easygoing. So hopefully, you never do have to feel what it’s like to lose someone you love.”

Little does he know that I already have—his sister.

I huff out a laugh as I ball up my napkin and toss it on my tray. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’ve gone through shit that you don’t even fucking know about, Rhonan.”

“Like what?”

“It doesn’t matter since, apparently, I’m shallow and you’re the only one with real problems, right?”

“Fletcher…”

“No, this is good. I’m so glad that I know what you think of me now,” I grate out.

“Fletcher, come on. I’m sorry,” he says, making me pause before I stand up and walk out. My blood is pumping furiously and my jaw fucking hurts from how hard I’m grinding my teeth together.

Maybe I should tell him how I feel about his sister right now. Maybe I should tell him that she’s the one who helped me when my dad threw his fists at my body. That without her, I might not even fucking be alive right now.

Rhonan continues. “I didn’t mean it like that, man. Honestly, I fucking envy you.”

That was the last thing I expected him to say. “You do?”

“Yeah. You made your dreams come true, you get to play a game that you love for a living, you don’t have to worry about anyone else’s happiness, and you don’t have ghosts haunting you at every turn.”

“People don’t have to be dead to haunt you,” I say without thinking.

He tilts his head. “What do you mean?”

Shaking off my comment because this is the last place I want to get into the details of my life that Rhonan doesn’t know, I push my tray to the side as well. “Nothing, but I get what you’re saying, man. Our lives are different, but did it ever occur to you that I might be jealous of whatyouhave?”

He looks stunned. “Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, I know I’m the one that wanted this job and the fame that goes with it, but sometimes I wonder what it would be like to go out in public and not be recognized, to live in a quiet town and have a schedule that revolves around my family, not dodging paparazzi and fake people..”

“Well, shit.” He sits back in his chair, soaking in my revelation. “Is this a new development?”

“Let’s just say you’re not the only one who is being affected by Elliot’s wedding.” Standing from my chair, I toss a couple of twenties on the table. “Looks like even after eighteen years of friendship, I can still surprise you.”

Rhonan stands as well. “I think the only thing you could say to me that would really surprise me is that you’d be the next one of us to get married.”

“Really? Even over Henley?”

Rhonan laughs. “I’d bet on Henley getting someone knocked up before you or Elliot with the way that guy fucks every woman within a 20-mile radius.”

I lift my shoulders as I shove them in my pockets. “You’re not wrong about that.”

“But I don’t see him getting married. Not with what his childhood was like.”

What he forgets is that Henley and I both lived through shit as kids. Elliot had his share too. Trauma doesn’t wait for adulthood—scars are formed no matter what age you are.