“Hey man, how’ve you been?”

“Good, Erik. How are you?”

I threw my gloves off, sitting down at the bar with him. He’d called me earlier, asking me if I wanted to join him for a drink, last minute. Having already followed Roger’s wife from work to her apartment, listening to scraps of her conversation on her phone, I’d realized that she wasn’t going anywhere tonight and I headed toward home. Michele had messaged me earlier that she was working, so I was looking at a night holed up at home alone. I had considered heading to Catfish, but decided against it, not wanting to smother her.

I couldn’t be with her every moment. I was going to have to accept that.

Erik calling me had been something of a blessing - a way to distract me from my own turbulent thoughts.

“I’ve been better,” Erik said, leaning against the bar, watching me sit down. I gestured at the bartender to indicate that I was ready to order a drink.

“Something happen?”

“No, not really.”

The bartender came up and asked me what I wanted to order. I picked a beer, whatever IPA they had on tap, and looked over at Erik.

“Then what’s wrong?”

He sighed. His phone was out, sitting next to his glass, the screen lit up with a notification. He turned it over.

“Claire.”

I nodded, wondering what had happened since the last time I saw him. He’d said that Claire had picked up the rest of her stuff from his apartment recently. That would have been the first time he’d seen her in several months, and with how he took the breakup, I figured it hadn’t been easy for him to see her again. The bartender brought me my drink, and I nodded in thanks, handing him my card to start a tab.

It might be a long night.

“What about her?” I asked, taking a drink.

“Man, it’s so fucking stupid. But I just can’t stop thinking about her. She looked so damn good when I saw her, so… happy. Different, I guess. And I just can’t stop thinking that maybe she misses me too.”

“Did she say she misses you?”

He shook his head. “No, but, you know. I just feel like she does.”

I nodded, thinking that maybe I understood what he meant. It was easy to project what you wanted onto other people, even if it was unlikely or unrealistic. But it wasn’t healthy - Claire was done, a long time ago. Thinking otherwise was only going to hurt Erik in the long run.

“Maybe you should consider the possibility that Claire is happiest without you.”

He flinched, looking into his glass. “That’s harsh, even for you.”

“Sometimes the truth hurts, my friend.” I thought he might crack a smile, but he didn’t, so I switched tactics. “Look, you and her were together for two years. She broke up with you over a year ago, and hasn’t given you one hint that she wants you back. Why beat yourself up thinking about it?”

Erik shrugged, downing the rest of his beer and ordering another one. I looked around the bar, eying the people huddled together with their drinks. My eyes flicked at the shabby decorations lining the walls, at the faded newspaper articles framed there. All bars looked about the same, and this was no different.

Except Catfish. But that was because of who worked there.

“What if… I never find anyone else?” he asked. “What if I’m stuck feeling like this forever?”

“C’mon, man. You know that’s not gonna happen.”

He didn’t even pretend to look like he was entertaining that idea. He was quiet for a few moments until the bartender brought his fresh beer and he said, “Thanks, Duke.”

“You know the bartender’s name?” I asked, incredulous, after he’d walked away.

“Yeah. I’m here enough, I sure as shit should.”

I sat back on my stool, staring at Erik, not sure I knew who I was looking at. I wondered how long he’d been this way, and I just hadn’t noticed. We’d known each other so long, and he was such a constant fixture, that I couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t a part of my life. And I’d repaid him with not even noticing how depressed he was.

Sure, I knew he was beat up over Claire. I knew that. But I just assumed he’d get over it. Growing up, in school, Erik was the clown, the happy one. The one who let shit roll off his back like it didn’t matter, no matter what it was. He was the one who talked me down off of thoughts that ate at me, the one who stood by my side when Emily left, the one who made sure I picked myself up after it all.

He was more than my friend, he was like my brother. And I hadn’t been there for him. I’d been too focused on my career, on my own shit. I rarely came out when he invited me anymore. I hardly ever talked to him unless he called first.

I sighed, realizing that I’d been a pretty terrible fucking friend.

“Tell me about the day Claire came to get her stuff.” I took another sip of my beer, watching him. “What happened, exactly?”

He looked surprised but leaned back in his chair. “She called and said she needed to come and get her last box of stuff. Said there was something she needed in it. When she came by, it was awkward, you know, ’cause we hadn’t seen each other in so long. But she asked me how I was, told me I looked good. I told her the same thing. Damn, she did look good. Hair was different, red lipstick. Tight jeans.”

I nodded, gesturing for him to continue.

“She got her stuff and stood at the door for a minute. Seemed like she wanted to say something. Who knows what, ’cause all she said was ‘bye’ and left.”

“Have you guys talked since?”

He shook his head. “No, but I almost drunk dialed her last week.”

I winced. When they first broke up, Claire received plenty of drunk dials from Erik.

“Almost, but you didn’t?”

“No. I had enough sense not to do it.”

I wished there was something I could say to make him feel better. He was obviously still in love with her, or something like it, and I knew that nothing I had to say to him would change that. But I could at least try.

“When I came home from Afghanistan to an empty apartment, I thought my world was over.” I remembered that day, the gray of the sky, the cold, cold apartment. The bare walls. Erik didn’t say anything. He only looked at me. I continued. “I thought that I was never going to see the sun again. But, man, you helped me out of that. You helped me see reason in the chaos. You’ve always been there for me.”

“Yeah. I guess I have.”

“This is me, returning the favor. I’m here for you, Erik. Even if that means telling you when you gotta shape up. And now is that time.”

He only shook his head, but with the hint of a smile on his face. I took another drink of my IPA, looking over at Duke, the bartender.

“Tell me, how long have you been coming here alone?”

“I dunno.” He cleared his throat, eyes downcast. “Maybe a couple nights a week.”

“Drinking at home isn’t good enough?”

“Sometimes, I’d rather just be out somewhere. Being at home….” He trailed off. But I thought that maybe I could fill in the blanks: Being at home was too quiet, too empty. Especially when you were alone.

“What’s your plan, then?” I asked him. “Just wallow in sadness forever? Never even try to get over this girl?”

“It’s not like I’m choosing this,” he ground out. His phone vibrated against the bar, but he ignored it. “I didn’t ask for Claire to leave me.”

“No, you didn’t. But she did leave. And you haven’t been the same since. It’s been thirteen months.”

“I was doing okay!” he burst out. “I was doing good. And then she called me, and it all went to shit. Like I’m starting back from square one.”

Taking another drink, I let a few moments of silence pass between us. My own phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out to see a text from Michele.

Missing you. Hope you’re having a good night.

My fingers flew across the screen as I sent back, Thinking about you too. I’d be having a better night if you were home in my bed.

“Who’s got you smiling like that?”

I didn’t blush, but Erik’s question sent me shifting in my seat. I cleared my throat. “Uh… Michele.”

“Michele? Who is Michele?”

“She’s a… someone I ran into on the street one day.” Erik was staring blankly at me, and I felt a stab of guilt. It didn’t feel right to lie to him. “Someone I used to know, back in the Army, hired me to find her.”

“What?”

I sighed. I launched into the whole story, starting from the beginning, telling him everything from the phone call from Brandon to the date Michele and I had up until this morning when she left. I told him about my mother being in the hospital, how Michele had insisted she go with me. I explained my dilemma, being afraid that Michele was in danger, or at least vulnerable. When I was finished, Erik’s eyebrows were raised, his expression completely dumbfounded.

“You’ve been holding out on me,” he said. He shook his head, laughing softly. “Jesus, Iain. I had no idea.”

“I know.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“No idea.”

We both took a drink. I finished my glass off, ordering another one from Duke. He set a fresh one in front of me fast.

“You like her, then?” Erik asked.

Did I like her? It was a simple question, one I could easily answer. I liked her expressive eyes, her perfect, rose lips. I liked her body against mine, her breathy moans in my ear as I claimed her. I liked the way she made me feel; I liked the way her eyes seemed to look right through me.

“Yes,” I said, my head inclining toward my glass. “I do.”

“Well, then the answer is simple, isn’t it?” he asked. “Don’t worry so much about keeping her safe. She’s been taking care of herself for months before you.”

Was it that simple? It was true Michele had been taking care of herself, but it was also true that I had added an unforeseen complication to her life, too. Just my presence had stirred her life up - she had been doing just fine without me. Hadn’t she?

“I don’t know if it’s that easy.”

“Why not? You’re both into each other. So what, you didn’t meet the normal way? So what, she’s got a past? Shit, we all do.”

“Yeah, but her past is a little more intense than just a bad breakup or something. Erik, her husband is crazy.”

“You mentioned,” he said, squinting at me. “Does that freak you out or something?”

Yes, of course it did, I wanted to scream. But not for the reasons he thought. I wasn’t afraid of Brandon, but I knew Michele was. And that tore me up.

I was afraid for her. I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to stop the worst from happening. And most of all, I was afraid that one day she’d pack up and leave without saying goodbye.

I thought about that - really thought about it. The idea of her doing something like that sent pain right through my chest, white and hot. I looked down at my glass, at my hand gripping it against the bar.

What did this mean for me? That I was falling for her?

No way. It was too soon. We were good together, especially in bed. But it was way too soon to feel this strongly about her.

“I’m not scared of Brandon. At all.” Erik didn’t look convinced, but I didn’t care. I trudged on. “But Michele is terrified of him. And I….” I remembered Emily losing our baby. I could still hear her over the phone, I could still feel the wind beating against me as I sobbed from the news. I hadn’t been able to protect her from our loss. What’s done was done, and I was here now. That had to mean something. “I want to do everything I can to make sure he doesn’t find her here.”

Erik said nothing to this. He only nodded. His eyes flashed with something I couldn’t name, but if he thought my comment was strange, he didn’t call me out on it.

We drank the rest of our beers in silence.