Bring Down the Stars

I swallowed. “What about them?”

“Don’t play stupid. You know goddamn well what. I told you to write about news and weather, and tell Autumn I missed her.”

“I did,” I said, my throat dry. “I wrote that and made it pretty. I did exactly what you asked for.”

Pull the other leg, Einstein, Sarge barked at me, it’s got bells on it.

Connor shook his head, lips pressed together.

“Dude, what’s wrong?”

“Oh nothing,” he said with a harsh smile. “Everything’s great. My girlfriend’s in love with me.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, as if I could contain the sudden pain that clenched it. I expected it. I actively worked to make it happen. Yet the reality hurt more than I’d been prepared for.

Let them be happy. That’s all that matters.

“Well, that’s good, right?” I said, clearing my throat. “Isn’t it what you wanted?”

“Yeah,” Connor said, his voice hard, but pain swam in his eyes.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“The problem is my soul.”

“What?”

“She said she loves my soul. But my soul…” he said with biting bitterness, his index finger unfolding right at me, “…is you.”

I blinked. The two quiet words slapped my face, leaving my lips numb, then wrapped warm arms around me, whispering, she loves you.

“Connor…”

“She’s in love with the ‘words of my heart.’ The letters. The poems. The goddamn phone call in Nebraska. That wasn’t me, man. That was you.” His jaw clenched. “It was always you.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “That’s not the only thing she loves. She loves how you make her laugh. How you take care of her—”

“Yeah, I make her laugh,” he said. “That must be it. That’s why she was in bed with me last night, tears in her eyes, saying she’s falling for me because I make her laugh.”

He crossed to the kitchen and popped a beer. At five in the morning.

You selfish ass, it was too much. You said too much in those letters and fucked everything up…

“I’m so tired of this shit,” Connor said, after taking a long pull. “So fucking tired of not being enough.”

“You are enough,” I said, firming my voice, desperate to fix this. “You have what she needs. Things no one else does.”

What I could never give her.

“What’s that, money? She doesn’t give a shit about money.”

“Not just money,” I said. “Who you are. You make people feel better just by being in your presence. Everyone loves you. She deserves someone who…”

“Who what, Wes? Is rich? And popular? Who doesn’t have the nickname, Amherst Asshole?”

“Yes,” I said, my voice hard. “Exactly.”

“So.” Connor slid into the chair opposite me. “How long have you been in love with her?”