The flight back to Boston is short, just over an hour. It’s a relief to get away from the overbearing family events, but leaving feels a bit bitter, as well.

Farrah gives me a kiss on the cheek and a smile as I leave, and Elijah shakes my hand.

“See you on the football field in a couple of weeks,” he grins. “Get ready to get beat.”

“We’ll see,” I say, punching him in the arm. “Think that arm can hold up to a game against the Pats?”

Elijah just laughs and Farrah smiles. Mom and Dad give me a kiss and then I leave for the airport. It’s about an hour drive, and then an hour flight, and by the time the sun is going down, I’m back in my four-bedroom mansion in Brookline, Massachusetts.

“Honey, I’m home!” I call out into the empty house as I walk through the door. I laugh bitterly, and then I sigh. It would be funny if it wasn’t so sad. Why did I buy this place anyway? It’s way too big for a bachelor on his own.

I flick my phone on and dial my teammate’s number. It’s Jordan, one of our running backs.

“Yo, Jord. You want to come by tonight and watch the game?”

“For sure. You back? How was the family?”

“They were good. The usual. You?”

Jordan chuckles. “Same. Couldn’t wait to get away. Be there in half an hour.”

“Get Boots and Rigley as well.” The two offensive linesmen each weigh about as much as Jordan and I put together, but they’re just big teddy bears. Or at least, they are off the field. On the field they’re fucking animals.

“Will do.”

I drop my small suitcase in my room and wander back to the kitchen. I open the fridge and sigh. I have an old head of lettuce, a couple Gatorades, and an assortment of old condiments. Nice. Looks like I’ll be ordering in tonight, again. At least being back at my parents’ house I had Maria’s cooking every day. Beats takeout any day of the week.

Now I’m back to reality. The cold, lonely reality of being a thirty-five year old bachelor.

By the time Jordan, Rigley, and Boots are here, I’ve got the game on the TV and some food on the way. Boots comes barreling through the door with a big, goofy smile on his face. He holds up a bag of beef jerky and tosses it to me. I catch it on my chest, grinning.

“Straight from God’s gift to this earth: Texas,” he booms. “Best jerky in the world.”

“Thanks, Boots.” I grin. He sits on the end of the couch and it creaks under his weight. Rigley takes the other end and Jordan grabs a recliner. We settle into easy conversation.

It feels good to be home. We talk about football, about our game in two days, about anything and nothing. The buzz of the playoffs is all around us. Soon, we’ll be vying for our spot in the Super Bowl. Halftime starts and Jordan clears his throat.

“So, I thought I’d tell you guys this before it becomes public knowledge,” he starts.

I turn to him, chewing on beef jerky. Rigley shifts in his seat and my couch groans again. Jordan takes a deep breath and then a huge grin spreads across his face.

“I’m engaged!”

He looks at me expectantly. I ignore the pang that passes through my chest and the thought that I’m going to lose my best friend. Instead, I jump up and wrap my arms around him.

“Congrats, bro,” I laugh as we embrace. “That’s fucking awesome. Steph didn’t turn you down, then, hey?”

“Shut up, dickhead,” he says, pushing me away. I laugh, and place my hand on his shoulder.

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks, man.”

Boots and Rigley heave themselves off the couch and crush Jordan between them. He’s beaming, laughing and patting them on the back and then he launches into the story of his proposal.

He’s been with Steph since high school. They dated all through college and have basically been the perfect couple for over a decade. It was never a question of ‘if’ with them, it was a question of ‘when’.

“So yeah, I finally stopped being a little pussy, I guess,” he laughs. “I was fucking nervous, though.”

“You’ve been with Steph like, your whole life,” Rigley laughs. “She wasn’t going to say no.”

“It’s still nerve wracking,” Boots says, throwing another piece of jerky in his mouth. “When I asked Amanda, I thought I was going to shit my pants.”

We all laugh, and I squeeze Jordan’s shoulder again. He grins at me, and I can’t ignore how happy he is. I’m happy for him too. I am!

So why does it make me feel so hollow inside?

Am I really that shallow asshole that can’t be truly happy for my best friend? What, did I think it would be just the two of us until the end of time? Steph’s always been in the picture, it’s not like anything is going to change.

Still, something feels different. It feels like there’s this whole side of life that I’m missing out on. Even fucking Elijah, King of the Assholes, has found a perfect woman to marry.

And me?

It feels like I’ve spent more time chewing this beef jerky than I have with a woman.

“Did you see that dickhead brother of yours?” Jordan says to change the subject. His eyes are still gleaming with happiness.

I nod. “I did. He’s still a dickhead.”

“Isn’t he engaged, too? How does he get so many women?”

“I have no idea. Maybe they like being cheated on.”

Jordan scoffs and Rigley shakes his head. I shouldn’t talk about my brother that way. I can’t help it. What is between us, it goes deeper than sibling rivalry. He swooped in and kissed Sally before I could. In high school, he stole my girlfriend after two weeks, even though he was just a freshman and I was a junior. He always seems to get what he wants, and he always treats them like shit.

He gave me the scar on my chest. I still remember the glint of metal in his hand and the cold, hard gleam in his eye. He doesn’t show that side of himself often.

But it’s there.

And yet, he’s engaged.

And here I am, holding my dick in my hand like a fucking loser.

I think about Farrah, and how she looked when she laughed. There was such determination in her eyes when she brought that axe down on the logs. Her eyes sparkled in the moonlight when she talked about handling a big axe, and it made my whole body feel like it was balancing on a knife’s edge.

Boots glances at me, frowning. “What’s on your mind, Jesse?”

“Ah, nothing,” I sigh. “I just really want to make it to the Super Bowl. I want to play against my brother and I want to beat his ass.”

“Don’t worry,” Rigley says with a nod. “We will.”

Lots of things have to go right over the next month for that to happen, but it could happen. And if it did, it would lessen the sting of being alone, at least for a little while.