Page 25 of Stay With Me

“The what now?”

“Gotta make sure the pants aren’t too tight when you sit or bend over. Fitted suits can be a little snug, and you wanna make sure nothin’ rips or gets…pinched.”

“Excuse me?”

She giggles at my horrified expression. “I’ll also bring some underwear options. Silk boxers are usually preferred, but if you prefer briefs…”

“Noah specified our underwear?”

It’s bad enough her wedding colors are olive green, copper, and peach. We’re gonna look like a Thanksgiving floral bouquet.

“No, but it’s one thing men don’t think about, and then theyend up uncomfortable. So I mention it during the fitting. Wilder opted to go commando.” She giggles, and a blush covers her cheeks. “I told him that wasn’t recommended but…”

I shake my head. “Yeah, not surprised. I’ll do the silk pair if that’s what you suggest.”

“Great. Just come out when you’re done.”

Once the door closes, I look at all the items spread out. Suspenders? And abowtie?

God.

But I love my annoying little sister, so I push down the anxiety and get dressed. As soon as I get the black slacks and white button-up situated, I start to sweat, and my body overheats. The last time I wore something this fancy was for senior prom. Billy and I thought we’d look like top shit in matching suits, black cowboy boots, and Stetsons. We drove into the school parking lot in my truck with the music cranked, a six-pack hidden in the back seat that we stole from the twins for the after-party and walked through the doors like badass motherfuckers.

We took a million photos that night. Laughed nonstop. Danced like morons to every fast song. And made enough memories to last a lifetime.

Well…a lifetime that was cut way too damn short.

This shirt’s itchy and way too tight it’s nearly cutting off my air circulation. Yanking at the collar, I attempt to loosen it, but my shaking hands make it impossible to grasp the button properly and loosen it.

“Fuckin’ piece of shit,” I mutter, staring in the mirror and lifting my chin. The material digs into my skin, and my breaths come out short and fast.

“Tripp? Doin’ okay in there?” Shannon asks from the other side.

No, I’m not okay. I need out of this goddamn shirt.

Finally, I manage to get the top one undone, but I’m too impatient to do the rest. With two hands, I yank down the middle and pop the buttons off with one hard pull. They fly across theroom, hitting the wall and floor with a clatter. It does nothing to alleviate the anxiousness consuming me in the stark white room.

“Tripp?” Shannon’s knocking grabs my attention, but when I open my mouth, nothing comes out.

Fuck. It’s been a while since I’ve had one this bad.

I kneel next to the wall and tilt my head back, then I close my eyes and count.

One, two, three, four, five…Billy, breathe!

Six, seven, eight, nine, ten…Exhale.

I picture my hands on Billy’s chest as I performed CPR, begging his heart to beat. Begging him to breathe. If I’d gotten there faster and not stopped at Miller’s first, I would’ve found him sooner. He wouldn’t have gone so long without oxygen and had a fighting chance. Those missed minutes could’ve saved my best friend’s life. Or hell, maybe if I’d just told him I was coming instead of arguing, he wouldn’t have gotten behind the wheel at all.

So many fucking regrets.

More knocking echoes throughout the room, but I can’t move or speak.

I should be focusing on something else to help me get through the anxiety instead of what’s causing it, but sometimes I can’t help it.

“I’m comin’ in.”

This time it’s Magnolia speaking.