“No. They weren’t home.”
“Thank God.” He touched his stomach. “If I had to listen to one more lecture from Mom about the merits of drinking sensibly, I would have needed another bottle to make it through.”
Wyatt grunted, saying nothing else.
“Thanks for bringing me home, and for staying. You didn’t need to do that.”
“Actually, I did.” He eyed Eric, rubbing his jaw. “You tried to leave your place to go fight with her at least ten times before you finally passed out. Someone had to stop you before you ruined everything with your drunken anger.”
Damn. He’d tried his best to stay away before he fucked up everything. Good thing his brother had stopped him. Despite his anger over her failing to tell him about her job, he was happy for her, and he’d keep his word. He’d be the guy who didn’t get upset because his girl was leaving.
Even if it killed him.
He was pretty damn sure it would.
“Thanks, man.” He dragged his hands down his face. “I’m glad I didn’t see her last night. I could have ruined everything if I did.”
Wyatt hesitated. “Well…”
“Shit.” He dropped his hands down to his lap. “What did I do?”
“We ran into her in the hallway, and you were kind of an asshole.” Wyatt shrugged. “From what you told me, she’s leaving anyway, so it might be for the best. It could be a clean, easy cut.”
“I don’t want a clean, easy cut.” He struggled to his feet, stumbling only a little bit. “I need to go see her. What did I say?”
“Nothing too bad,” Wyatt said, watching him curiously. “Just that you wanted
her to go to bed and leave you alone. She knew you were drunk, so I think she shrugged it off.”
“Shit. No, she didn’t.”
“Again, she’s leaving,” Wyatt said unnecessarily. “So why all the stress?”
“Because I love her, damn it,” Eric snapped. “Have you ever been in love before?”
Wyatt clammed up, staring at him like he’d seen a ghost. “What’s that matter?”
“Because when you love someone, it doesn’t matter how far away they may or may not be moving. You still love them,” he said slowly, fisting his hands at his sides.
Wyatt stared.
Just stared.
After a while, he swallowed. “Well, if she really loves you, too, then I’m guessing she’ll forgive you. I think that’s also what love is all about. Forgiving.”
“I hope so,” Eric managed to say. “I’m going to shower, brush my teeth, get dressed, and go make sure I didn’t fuck everything up.”
Wyatt nodded.
Eric cleaned himself up at record speeds, and the whole time he stood under the water, letting it wash away the lingering dregs of the hangover he was sporting, he pictured Shelby’s face. A flash of her looking at him with pain in her eyes came to him, and he hoped like hell it wasn’t an actual memory, but rather a figment of his drunken imagination.
He fisted his hand, leaned it against the wall, and rested his forehead on the cold tile next to it. He’d finally met a woman who made him come out of his shell, who made him feel, and he went and fucked it up with a bottle or two of whiskey. “Shit.”
Turning off the water, he stepped out, dried off, and got dressed.
When he came out, he was expecting to find out that Wyatt left, but instead his brother greeted him with coffee and an omelet. Eric froze, lifting a brow. “What the hell, man?”
Wyatt shrugged a shoulder. “A guy should never grovel on an empty stomach.”