My Best Friend’s Brother

I thought that if one day she told this story to anyone, I would be upset, but that doesn’t matter anymore. I’m not going to stay here to hear what Julie will say because I know this story by heart.

…

“Man, I have to surprise Rachel. I know it’s still two months before our anniversary, but I want to propose uniquely, and I’m too anxious to wait all this time.”

Kylie looks at me and says sarcastically:

“Gee, where’s my fun-loving, party-going friend? What have you done with him?”

He takes another swig of beer. He raises his glass, swings it around in the air, and says:

“Look around this bar, look at how many pussycats there are, and you talk to me about proposing?”

I look around, ignore him and continue:

“You know I haven’t gone around picking up people in a long time!”

He holds my shoulder with one hand and, between swigs of beer, tells me: “I know!

“I know, that’s what I miss, having my partying partner again.”

I shrug. He continues:

“But if my best friend is looking to tie himself down for good, why not give him a hand? You can count on me.”

He makes that face when he is thinking of something epic that I know will not end well. But I don’t care, and I just wanted to know if my best friend had my back on this one, and this is one way he admits that he wishes me good luck.

…

That same week I planned everything. I was going to get home early on Friday and leave my apartment with a table ready for dinner for two.

As soon as Friday finally arrived, I got everything ready with some help from Kylie.Content (C) Nôv/elDra/ma.Org.

I didn’t call Rachel because I wanted to surprise her at home. I even made up that I would be a little late at work.

She would never suspect anything because it was still a month before our second anniversary.

I parked my car in front of her apartment and went up the stairs to the third floor.

The door was just pushed open, which made it even easier for me to arrive by surprise.

There was silence there, and I knew she was home, so I called her name and no answer.

The door to her room was ajar, so I went that way, and inside I heard a shower running and Rachel’s laughter.

I decided to go there, and I would love to see her showering at that hour.

But as soon as I opened the bathroom door, I found Rachel showering with a guy. A guy I had never seen before in my life.

She came toward me, trying to explain herself, but I asked her not to touch me.

I vaguely remember the following scenes, and I only remember punching the guy. When he pulled himself together, he punched me back, Rachel screaming, trying to separate us, me leaving her house, calling her a slut in the hallway, while she ran after me down the stairs wearing only a bath towel.

After that, I went back to the evenings with Kylie again, and for a while, it worked.

The day Molly picked me up from the airport was exactly one month away, and it was also the day that Rachel and I would have been dating for two years.

I loved that woman, and she betrayed me in the worst possible way. God knows how many times she could have done that.

I had to drink until I forgot who I was, and I did…

…

As soon as I finish getting out of the shower, she is in Julie’s room pointing her finger at me, she isn’t saying anything, but I can feel her anger from here.

I think she is staring at my body for a moment, but it must be just my imagination because she immediately starts asking what I am doing here.

It annoys me. How does Molly think that she can barge in like this without even giving any explanation? So I ask her what she is doing here.

As soon as I answer her question, she starts pointing her finger again, and Julie comes in wanting to know what is happening.

She says while explaining her anger that I ruined her wonderful day with that insufferable guy I find out is now her fiancé.

I don’t like to hear this, he is an idiot, and I already knew that they had gotten engaged because he called her that this morning and that was one of the reasons why I left angrily, asking them to stop laughing so much in front of my door.

But I’m not going to give her the satisfaction of knowing that I heard the whole thing, I wanted to ruin that bullshit anyway, and I wanted him to get fucked up sometime.

I’ve seen him do things Molly would hate to know, I’ve been there, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, not even her.

I thought that if one day she told this story to anyone, I would be upset, but that doesn’t matter now. I won’t stay here to hear what Julie will say because I know this story by heart.