Never Really Over (Bremmy 3)

Chapterish 36

PINING LIKE AN EVERGREEN

I try not to hear their voices, but it's like the universe wants me to hear them. Like my ears cannot hear anything else at the moment. So I pretend to not be listening to Josh talk about spending Christmas in the French Riviera this year. Or the fact that he's looking to buy a house this fall.

It doesn't matter anyway.

This time next year, Cece and I will be celebrating our own wedding and making our own holiday getaway plans. And going to who knows what fancy event.

"Saw your pics from Cece's movie premiere," Brody says next to me.

"What? Oh yea," I nod, remembering what he's talking about, remembering that of course he saw the pictures from Expose's premiere. Everyone did.

"Was it fun?" He asks.

"Sure, it was." I shrug. "She loved it."

"And you?" Brody cocks his eyebrow.

"It wasn't bad. I'll get used to it, I guess."

"Another thing that's not ideal?" Brody asks, knowing the answer all too well.

"Are you keeping count for me?" I scold him.

"Course not," he shakes his head, grinning. "Now cake tasting tonight. That's not ideal."

"I could think of worse things," I shrug. 

"Hey! What are you guys chatting about?" Cece steps up between us, looping an arm through mine.

"Bro stuff," I joke.

"Best man stuff," Brody elaborates.

"Right, right. Duh," Cece says, shaking her head.

Brody falls back a pace or two to walk with Lauren and I turn to Cece who's talking about our flight tomorrow.

"Really, it's such a short trip. We should come more often. Maybe I can try to book some shoots here." Cece glances at me, all smiley and shit.

"Maybe." I nod. "Lauren would love that."

...

It's 10 PM and Cece is up in the room, cucumber mask on her face and white spritzer in her hand. I'm sitting in the lounge, unable to sleep even though we have a flight at the ass crack of dawn.

I'm about the text Travis and Nate when I realize I don't even have my phone on me. I left it back in the room with Cece.

My thumb runs over the condensation on my scotch on the rocks glass, spilling beads of water onto the armchair. Without planning to, without wanting to, I think about the last two days. About seeing Emmy again. Her refusing to address anything. Her being so her.

I think about Cece, about the absolute perfection she is, about all the stability she's somehow wedged into my shaky life.

I rub my fingers over my eyes and try to empty my head. I sip my drink. The watered-down scotch still burns the tip of my tongue.

I watch everyone from my chair in the lounge. They come. They go. Smiling and bright-eyed. Stiff and barely talking. It's easy to spot the couples that want to be here and the couples that need to be here.

Which side do we fall on?

The door opens and I hear a brief static of the noisy street out front. It closes quickly and I turn my head to see which couple is returning for an early evening. Well, 10 PM is early for NYC at least.

"Ah, oh my God stop!"

Her voice carries across the lobby.

I spin to see Emmy traipsing across the marble floor, Josh in tow. She's pushing his hand away as he's trying to grab her waist and tickle her.

I pray this this leafy palm is large enough to cover me.

"Give me one sec," Josh tells her, making his way across the hall.

I sit back in the chair, watching her in a completely non-Joe Goldberg kind of way. Honest. She's close enough I could say hi, but should I?

She spins around, giggling, fanning a brown paper bag behind her. From some cannoli place. She stops in her tracks when she sees me.

"Oh–" Emmy gasps like she's stopped mid-thought. "Hey."

"Hey," I answer.

"Josh's just gone to the bathroom. We just got back," she answers breathlessly.

"I see that." I nod, eyeing the take-out bag in her hand. I notice she's watching the space behind me, waiting for someone to materialize from thin air. "It's just me."

"Oh, cool." She smiles awkwardly.

I stand without really thinking, abandoning my scotch glass on the end table. I bridge the gap between us in three steps. She's so close I can smell her perfume. Actually, I'm not even sure it's perfume and not just how I've come to expect her to smell.

The room is charged with some type of energy.

I want to say something –need to say something.

"Jay," she whispers, placing a hand on my chest to stop me from moving in any closer. "Don't."

"I'm not doing anything," I say in defense.

"You are," she accuses.

"What am I doing?" My voice is barely audible between us.

I stare into her blue eyes, strikingly aware that Josh will return any second.

"You're being you," Emmy tells me, shaking her head with a laugh of disbelief.

"Oh?" I step back.

"You know what I mean," she says. I can't tell if she's annoyed or amused.

"I just didn't expect it to be like this," I admit.

"Ah, yes." She says knowingly. A small smile creeps across her lips. "You were hoping for pining."

"Pining?" I raise my eyebrow, laughing. "Not at all. I mean, okay. Maybe a little pining."

If I had it my way, Emmy would've spent the last year pining like a goddamn evergreen. I'm fully aware how unfair that is –when I'm the one that ruined us all because I couldn't get my shit together –but I still can't help it.

"Maybe five minutes of pining. I'll give you that," she teases, grinning.

"Kind of you," I nod.

"Hey, babe."

Josh is back and scooping Emmy away before I even blink.

"Hey Brooks," he says, spotting me after Emmy.

"Sup man."

I turn my back to them and pick up my glass again, pretending that only seconds passed and no further exchange besides hello.

"Well, goodnight," Emmy says stepping backwards into Josh.

"See ya guys."

The elevator doors close behind them as I drain the last bit from my glass.  I decide I should get back to my own room. Maybe Cece is done her relaxation meditation by now.

It hits me that the next time I'll see Emmy is at the wedding. And then after that? Ever again? Never again?

I'm not sure which prospect hurts worse.

🤍

[ Hi Bremmies. Taking a poll here. Team Brooks or Josh?? ]