Ronnie picked up another and held it in the air as if threatening to throw that one at me, too. “Stop deflecting. We’re talking about Janelle here. Let’s get back on track. If she’s moving on with this whole wedding for cha-ching thing, then that’s your fault. You can’t push her in that direction and then use that as an excuse to not right your wrongs.”
“I get it, but I can’t do anything about it. She made up her mind when she left. She didn’t argue or fight with me like…like…”
“Like you expected her to? Like what, Holden? Like you think she should have? Did you do all that—take down her bed and pack her clothes—just to see what reaction you’d provoke? Did you honestly think you could load her belongings up in a car, accuse her of being shady behind your back, and she somehow wouldn’t leave when you told her to?”
“No!” I slammed both fists on the desk, releasing my anger for the first time since Janelle walked away and never looked back. “But I expected more. Five years ago, she packed her bags and left. No phone call, no knock on my door. Nothing. She moved away and left me behind.”
Ronnie scooted forward to the very edge of the chair and leaned as far across my desk as she could reach. With the calmest voice I’d ever heard her use, she held my hand and asked, “And what did you do for her?”
“Not sure what you mean.”
“Janelle was eighteen, correct? She woke up in a hotel room, no longer holding her V card, learning she gave it to you but couldn’t remember.”
“And then kicked me out of the shower, making me feel like the biggest piece of shit that ever walked the earth,” I added, filling in the rest for her in case she didn’t remember that part of the story. “So again, what was it I was supposed to do for her?”
“Let me just go back a second or two…to the part where I pointed out that she’d had sex for the very first time, losing her virginity, something she had held onto all that time, and couldn’t remember any of it. I’ve never had a real dick up in me, but I can tell you if I couldn’t remember my first time—no matter how freaking awful it was—I’d be miserable. But if I woke up like she did, knowing the guy was basically part of my family and I’d never be able to hide from him again, I’d probably want to crawl into a hole and die. I most certainly wouldn’t want to share a shower with him.”
I couldn’t do anything other than sit and listen, because I had never thought about this perspective before. And I hated that I never once understood what it had been like for Janelle. I’d thought about it, about how she must’ve felt, but not once had I ever been able to fully comprehend everything Ronnie was explaining now.
“Then she gets on a plane and realizes the seat next to her is empty. Your seat. You slept with her and then couldn’t even stomach flying home with her. Imagine what she must’ve gone through on that plane. It takes effort to switch a flight—and money. Which basically means your empty seat told her you’d rather waste time and money than be forced to sit next to her. That’s not the message I’m sure you meant to send, but I’m willing to bet that’s what she received loud and clear.”
“Didn’t you say my entire problem is because I came to my own conclusions? Isn’t that what you’re doing now?”
“Nope. Not at all. I’m a woman, I have a vagina, I know how we think. Straight or not, we have the same thought process—well, most of us do. But anyway, I am willing to bet that’s how she felt that morning. And to sum up the rest of her summer, you avoided her. Did you not? So now, after hearing all that, can you please explain to me why she should’ve reached out to you after she moved away?”
“What was I supposed to do?”
“You were supposed to do exactly what you should do now—go after her!”
“You mean go to New York?”
“Is she in New York, Holden?” she asked, full of sass and attitude. When I nodded, she clucked her tongue and fluttered her eyes. “Then yes, go to her. Beg her for forgiveness, tell her what a loser you are and that you’ll spend the rest of your life making it up to her. I don’t care if you promise her the freaking moon. Go get her!”
I sat at my desk, surrounded by Ronnie’s words long after she fled the room. I knew she was right, I just wasn’t sure how to go about the situation. It wasn’t until I found myself standing in Matt’s office, words falling off my tongue before I figured out how to handle it.
“You’re taking more time off? Seriously, Holden, I feel like I’ve been here all by myself ever since Janelle got sick.”
“That’s not true. I took a few days off when she was ill, yes, but I worked from home and even came in for a few hours on that Friday. That’s not fair. I’ve never held your time off against you.”
He held up his hands and his eyes grew wide. “I’m messing with you. It was just a joke. Calm down and tell me what’s gotten you so worked up. What do you need the time off for anyway? Is this what’s got you wound tight?”
“I’m going to New York.”
“Is there something going on there that I’m not privy to? First Janelle, now you.”
“Well, I’m going there because of her. I want to go there to get her, because I was an asshole and pushed her away. So now I need to go grovel and beg her to forgive me.”
“Are you trying to tell me you’ve got the hots for my sister?” His tone gave nothing away, so I had nothing to go on. Then again, it didn’t really matter. I knew ahead of time that I would do anything, regardless of reactions or objections. Matt was my best friend, like a brother to me, but if he had a problem with me and Janelle, he’d just have to deal with it. Because I refused to let anything ever get in the way of us again.
“I’m trying to tell you I’m in love with her.”
His eyes grew large, and he began to choke.
“I’ve been in love with her for a really long time.”
“How long?”
“Funny story…so you see, when we were all in Vegas for your wedding—”
“I swear to God, Holden…” He rose from his chair, red faced and hands fisted. “If you fucked my baby sister—”
“I married her!”
We stood facing each other, a desk separating us, both breathing heavily and unsure of the other’s response. Then he relaxed, the anger vanishing before my eyes. “You did what?”
“The night of your wedding, after the reception, we hung out. We walked the strip and watched some shows, and when we were done, we decided to go to a chapel and get married. We had the whole thing planned out. But you see, when we got back home, reality started to settle in and then she left for college…it didn’t exactly turn out the way we thought it would.”
“So…you guys aren’t married?”
“Yeah, we are. Or, at least I think we still are. In a nutshell, I got pissed off over something I more than likely misunderstood, and I sent her away with signed papers that would dissolve the legality of our marriage. And I’m praying I can get to her before they can be filed, or before any other damage can be made.”