Stitches

I’m not perfect and he’s not, either; it’s just that our flaws fit together seamlessly and give off the impression of perfection.

Griff doesn’t have that, though. I’ve never felt like he and Ashley had that kind of connection, and now that I know she’s been sleeping around behind his back, I’m quite sure of it. I would never do that to Sebastian, not for anything in the world. If I ever felt unhappy, I would talk to Sebastian about it and we would fix it.

It’s incredible to have that, and I’m so sad Griff doesn’t.

I think about him implying he felt left out last night, so as I walk past, I try to throw him a bone, letting my hand drift across his shoulders and giving him a one-handed gentle squeeze.

Then I feel ridiculous for thinking “throw him a bone,” like Griff is someone who needs pity attention. Not by a long shot. He may be in pain right now from Ashley’s bullshit, but Griff is impressive in his own right. Sebastian and Griff are both incredible specimens—not just physically, but their unrelenting drive. These two men know what they want, and they’ll do whatever it takes to get it.

They began their journey in life as castoffs with nothing. They sacrificed and saved and worked their asses off—five jobs between them, at one point—living in squalor so they could make something of themselves. They purchased their first business at the tender ages of 22 and 23. They continued to work their asses off, and now they both have so much. Half a dozen businesses, beautiful homes, loving wives….

Well, no, I guess Griff doesn’t have that anymore.

Dammit, Ashley.

He can do so much better, though. If she doesn’t appreciate what she has in Griff, she doesn’t deserve him. It kills me that he’s in so much pain now—even if he won’t properly show it, I know he is. Last night wouldn’t have happened otherwise. Last time Griff called me drunk to come pick him up in the middle of the night was right before he met Ashley. He had stopped hanging out with us, then one night he called me out of the blue. He told me he was walking around and couldn’t find his house. I told him to stay put and I went to find him so I could get him home safely.

Now he’s a grown ass man. Sebastian is 8 years older than me, so Griff is 7—that makes him 31. He should be settling down, not going through his first divorce.

I wanna give Griff a hug, but given last night, I decide not to. I felt like I should mention it to Sebastian this morning, but I also didn’t know what to say. Nothing untoward actually happened. He joked that if I took off his pants he might get an erection, but that wasn’t a big deal. Sure, he pulled my body close in bed, but he’s lonely and hurting; he probably just needed some affection. I’m sure in his vulnerability last night, he probably said things he didn’t mean.

“So, what should I make you gentlemen for dinner tonight?” I ask casually, grabbing my own plate and taking my seat at the table.

Griff raises a dark golden brow at me. “Us gentlemen? I don’t live here.”

“You don’t remember last night?” I ask.

His blue eyes dull a little and his gaze drops to the table.

I guess that answers that.

I skip that part, though, and say, “I invited you to stay tonight. You owe me a Hepburn double feature. I’ll make dinner and we’ll stay in and be lazy asses.”

Griff shakes his head. “Gonna have to pass.”

“Why?” Sebastian asks.

Griff glances over at him, but he seems a little uneasy, and I hate it. “Got shit to do.”

“What kind of shit? Packing up Ashley’s clothes and tossing it on the lawn shit?”

Griff just rolls his eyes.

“If that’s what you have to do, I’m happy to help,” Sebastian volunteers. “We’ll get it done fast, then we can come spend the rest of the night with Moira and Audrey.”

Shaking his head, he spears a forkful of scrambled eggs. “You’re relentless,” he states, before taking a bite.

“You are leaving her, right?” Sebastian pushes, watching his best friend.

“Stop,” Griff says, cutting Sebastian an unfriendly look as he reaches for his coffee. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Then tell me you’re calling a divorce lawyer this afternoon and I’ll gladly drop it,” Sebastian states. “Otherwise, I’m going to keep talking about it.”

“Then I’m going to leave,” Griff states.

Sebastian feigns a grimace. “Your car’s at Callahan’s.”

“I’ll walk,” Griff shoots back. “I’m not going to sit here and discuss this shit with you, Seb. It’s my life, not yours.”