8 Weeks (Time for Love 1)

“Jesus,” my buddy Scott, whose pending nuptials we were in Vegas celebrating, said as he made out my naked, vomit-covered form. “What the fuck happened to you?”

“Where were you guys?” I asked bleakly, trying to pull myself into a sitting position.

“Well, after you said you were heading back here, pussy that you are, we continued our little party. We hit up a club at the Hard Rock, then went out for breakfast. We haven’t slept yet.” This was said in a mind-numbing tone by my other buddy, TJ.

“Have you been like this all night?” Scott asked.

I put my head in my hands and tried to control my shaking body.

“I really fucked up,” I said.

“Dude,” TJ said, throwing my jeans at me. “Put some pants on. I can’t listen to you when your junk is on display.”

I leaned back and tried to wiggle into my jeans without disturbing my stomach. Once I was dressed, I filled them in on my morning.

Scott and TJ were staring at me, horrified. Scott started pacing the floor and asked, “Do you remember where you met her or how you got back here?”

“No. I don’t remember a fucking thing,” I admitted.

“Maybe nothing happened,” TJ said hopefully.

“We were both naked, and although I don’t remember the details, I’m pretty sure we had sex.”

“Shit,” Scott muttered. “What are you going to do?”

“What do you mean?” I asked miserably. “I have to tell Shelly the truth.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea, man? She’ll never hear it from us,” TJ said. Scott nodded his agreement.

“I can’t do that. I can’t lie to her.”

“It’s either lie to her, or break her heart, Cal,” Scott said with a frown.

Scott and TJ had been my best friends since middle school. They’d been with me at the pep rally when I’d first laid eyes on Shelly and they stood up in my wedding.

The trip back had been long and torturous as I tried to figure out what I should do. Shelly and I had a great relationship and I’d never lied to her. I didn’t want to start now, but what Scott said was true. It would break her heart, and I knew our relationship would never be the same, but I also knew that I wouldn’t be able to live with this lie for the rest of our lives.

Quit being a bitch and go inside, I said to myself, trying to talk myself into getting out of the car.

I really didn’t want to, but I knew that she’d probably heard the garage door, and would be waiting for me to come inside.

Fuck.

I grabbed my overnight bag and reluctantly opened the car door.

When I opened the door and saw Shelly leaning against the counter in the sexiest little dress I’d ever seen, I wanted to rewind the last couple days and not go on the Vegas trip.

I looked around the room, noted the candles, flowers, and the sweet smell of my favorite dinner on the stove, and felt like I’d just been punched in the gut.

It was our anniversary.

I’d been so wrapped up in my misery, I’d forgotten. I had a gift that I’d bought a few days ago for her in the closet. Man, that seemed like ages ago.

My face must have betrayed my despair, because Shelly pushed off the counter and came to me, her hands coming up to immediately cup my face.

“What’s wrong?” She asked.

I closed my eyes briefly and breathed in the sweet smell of her. I pulled her into my arms and held on tightly, knowing that in a few minutes, she wasn’t going to want me to touch her.