seven

Dante

A quiet tap on my office door draws my attention from the papers I’ve been poring over, and I look up to find my assistant, Katie, standing in the entryway.

“Do you need anything else before I leave?” she asks when I meet her gaze.

It’s been six weeks since the funeral. I’ve been burying myself in work, and I’m doing my best to hold Tessa together.

“I’m good. Have a nice weekend, Katie.”

I can tell by the look on her face that she’s not fooled. “You, too, Dante,” she says before striding away.

My thoughts turn to Tessa. We’ve grown closer since Trevor’s death. Tessa needs a friend right now, and frankly, so do I.

Despite it all, Trevor and I were close even if we hadn’t grown up together.

Our father, Grant Salinger, and my mother had a brief love affair before Grant moved on. The first time I met my father, I was ten, and Trevor was seven. Grant raised him when his mother died. After Trevor graduated, he applied to the same college I attended. We had the same major and used our father’s money to start Salinger and Salinger Internet Securities. It was the first and last time I took a handout from Grant.

My cell chimes from somewhere beneath the pile of new client contracts. I rummage through the documents until I find it. The screen lights up with a text from Tessa.

Tessa: I’m going to skip tonight. Rain check?

I knew she’d try to get out of going tonight. We’re supposed to go to a pub for dinner. Apart from going to work, she doesn’t leave the confines of her four walls, and I’m trying to change that.

Me: How about we stay in instead? Come to my place. I’ll order pizza.

Tessa: I think I’m just going to stay home.

Me: Tess, come over. Just for a little while.

My eyes roam over the expanse of my office. It’s quiet, except for the noise of the Chicago streets below. I place the phone back down on my desk, rise to my feet, and move to stand in front of the wall of windows to take in the city. People move along like tiny soldiers, completely ignorant of how drastically life can shift in a split second. How one decision has the power to change everything.

My phone vibrates against the wood. I stride over to my desk, pick up the phone, and swipe the screen.

Tessa: Hold the black olives.

I answer the door to find Tessa waiting on the other side. Her hair is in a messy bun, and she’s wearing Trevor’s Chicago Blackhawks hoodie and a pair of jeans. The dark circles under her eyes are on full display. Her face is free of the makeup she wears to conceal them.

A beautiful mess.

“Hey,” I greet her and step back to allow her to enter before closing the door.

“Hey,” she says softly, leaning in for a hug. She steps away, a sad smile on her face.

“Come into the kitchen.”

I hear Tessa’s footfalls as she follows behind me. I grab a glass from the cabinet, fill it with red wine, and pass it to her.

“Thanks.” She takes it from my hand and lifts it to her lips.

I move to the fridge to grab a beer.

Tessa makes a face as I open the bottle and take a long pull. “I don’t see how you can drink that stuff.”

“What? Beer?” I raise an eyebrow at her.

“Yes. I’m not sure what horse piss tastes like, but I’d bet that’s pretty damn close,” she says, indicating the bottle.

“This from the woman who can shoot whiskey like water,” I tease.

“Jealous?” She grins.

There’s a knock on the door.

“Pizza’s here. Want to grab some plates out of the cabinet and meet me in the living room?”

“Sure.”

I pay the delivery guy and then head into the living room where Tessa already has the TV on. We situate ourselves on the sofa with our dinner and dig in. I watch Tessa in my periphery as she eats her slice of pizza. She’s barely finished half of it when she abandons her plate. She hardly eats enough to stay alive, and I constantly worry about her.

We’re halfway through the movie when we both bust out laughing. She throws her head back, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her reaction has me chuckling even harder. She’s carefree, uninhibited. It’s the first glance I’ve had of the old Tessa in for-fucking-ever, and I suppress the urge to kiss her.

Friends…just friends, I remind myself.

Her laughter stops abruptly, and her hand flies over her mouth. She looks at me with a horrified expression on her face and then bursts into tears. This time, they have nothing to do with amusement. I set my plate to the side and move to kneel in front of her.

What the hell just happened?

“Tess, talk to me.”

She drops her face into her hands, sobs racking her body. I stand and draw her into my arms.

“I-I miss him.” Her face is buried in my chest, her words muffled.

“Shh. Breathe, Tess. Just breathe.” My arms hold her tighter as I gently sway our bodies back and forth. “I miss him, too,” I confess. It’s the truth regardless of his mistakes. I didn’t just lose my brother, my business partner; I also lost a friend. “It’s okay to laugh, to allow yourself a reprieve.”

Guilt weighs on her; I can see it all over her.

“It just feels so wrong.”

I step back. My hands move to her cheeks, and I hold her face in my palms. “Look at me. You have nothing to feel guilty over.”

She shakes her head, and her hands travel from her sides to wrap around my waist. I drop my hands from her face and hold her against me.

I know beyond a shadow of a doubt, no matter how angry I am with my brother, if I had the power to change the circumstances, I would. If I could go back, if there were a chance to alter the outcome of that night, I’d do it in a second. Even if that meant I’d go my whole life loving Tessa from afar, fucking random women and living in my own hell, I’d do it for her.

Seeing Tessa so broken is almost more than I can take.

We settle back onto the couch, and I reach for the remote and turn the television off. She curls into my side, resting her head against my shoulder, and we share memories of life before. Of hockey games and baseball. And Trevor.