“What is it? She what?”
“She found me where I was having lunch.”
“Are you kidding me?”
He sinks down into a chair, his head falling into his hands. I walk around the desk and sit next to him. “What happened?”
He sighs heavily. “I was eating. All I wanted was to have a sandwich in peace at the café I like.”
“The one she knows you like? The one she knows you go to?”
“Yes,” he says in a sad and angry hiss. “She showed up, took the seat across from me, and asked if I’d be willing to talk.”
“What did you say?” I ask nervously, because this hasn’t been easy in the least for him, and because I worry about the firm.
He looks up, his blue eyes full of melancholy. “I didn’t say anything, because I felt so fucking awful. I felt like I was still in love with her, and I hated feeling that way.”
I swallow roughly, hurting for my brother. “I hate that you feel that way.” I take a beat, then ask an important question. “What did she want?”
“She wanted to talk it out. Have a chat. She loves me, but she’s not in love with me,” he says, sketching air quotes.
I seethe. “That’s such a cop-out.”
“That’s not all.”
“What else?”
“She told me her sister is ill, and she doesn’t have enough money for the medical treatment, and that’s why she wanted to sell the firm.”
I scoff. “Lillian is ill? That’s a barking lie.”
“What if it’s true?”
I grip his shoulder. “Don’t believe her. She lied to you.”
He nods, his breath coming out shakily. “She tried to tell me it was the only way and couldn’t I look into my heart to help? And I said I would have helped her if we were together. She could have come to me for help.”
“What did she say?”
“She said she felt like she was always coming to me for help. That she needs to be able to do things on her own. That’s why she left.”
He winces, and I squeeze his shoulder again. “She’s messing with you, Erik. You know that, right? This all seems incredibly dodgy.”
“Does it?”
“Completely. Don’t let her manipulate you.”
His shoulders slump. “I don’t know how this went pear-shaped. I don’t know why I didn’t see it coming. I had literally no fucking clue she would take a knife from the butcher block and stab the serrated edge into me. And that’s how it feels now, Chris. That’s how it fucking feels.”
For a flash, I can hear Elise saying those same words. They sound precisely like how she must have felt when she learned of her husband’s transgression. And in this moment, my anger, fueled by the short straw that two people I care about were handed, intensifies. I hate that they were duped.
Erik’s voice breaks, but if tears were coming, he tamps them down, drawing a sharp and angry breath. “It’s not right that you and Elise are putting on this whole production for me.”
“I think I can manage pretending to like Elise a little bit,” I deadpan. If he only knew the half of it—that I’m pretending not to be completely mad about her.
“Yeah? It’s not so awful?”
“We’re faking it fine, thank you very much. Enough about me. I want to know how I can help you. Do you still love her?”
He moans and shakes his head, then nods. “Yes, no. Yes, no. I want to be over her.” He pushes out a strained laugh. “Can you get me a pill? Something, anything to make me not feel a thing for Jandy?”
I smile faintly. “If there were one, I’d get it. But in the meantime, want to go to the movies and see a stupid Will Ferrell comedy? Those always make you laugh.”
He smiles, as if he can’t help it. “Talladega Nights?” He places his hands together as if praying. “If there’s a goddess, then some theater will be showing Talladega Nights.”
“That theater is known as Netflix, I believe.”
But there’s also a theater in the second arrondissement where we find a Will Ferrell “retrospective” is underway, so I steal him from the office and take him to see Ricky Bobby tear up the racetrack.
If this isn’t fate looking out for us, I don’t know what it is.
When Friday arrives, Elise texts me to tell me she’ll be at the field a few minutes before the game starts.
I write back that I’ll see her when she arrives, and I’ll kick a goal for her. I finish my stretches and look around once more.
A woman calls out my name. But the voice isn’t the one I want to hear.
