“Hey, Dane. Kat mentioned she was meeting you here for drinks before going to dinner tonight.”
Benjie, my wife’s best friend, dropped onto the stool next to me. It was August in Texas, and he should be dying of heatstroke in that pink button-down shirt, but that was Benjie for you. Didn’t exactly adhere to any trend that I’d noticed in our limited interaction.
“What brings you around?”
“I wanted to talk to you.”
The bartender slid the Crown and Coke across the wooden bar, and I nodded at Benjie. “You want anything?”
He looked up at the bartender. “Perrier, if you have it.”
For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why he’d seek me out here. “You need Kat?”
Benjie shook his head. “No, I need to talk to you.”
The bartender set the green bottle of Perrier in front of Benjie on a cocktail napkin, and Benjie twisted the cap off, taking a little more time than I would expect. He folded the cocktail napkin inside out and wiped off the mouth of the bottle before he took a drink. Through all of this, I waited for him to tell me whatever he’d come here to say.
Finally, he looked up at me. “You’re not around much.”
This wasn’t a secret, by any means. I wasn’t spending as much time out of the country as I did before, and most of the time, I was home on the weekends.
“About as much as Kat.”
“What the hell do you do, again?”
“Imports.”
“Sounds boring as shit.”
I shrugged and took another drink. “It keeps me entertained.”
Benjie must have decided that was enough small talk. “I told her she was making a mistake by marrying you.”
Blunt and to the point. Even though I didn’t like what he was saying, I respected the guy for putting it out there so plainly.
“Is that right?”
He nodded. “She didn’t know you well enough. Not for real. And I’m gonna go out on a limb and say you still don’t know her either.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him I knew what mattered, like how she tasted and what she sounded like when she came, but Benjie wasn’t here to whip out dicks and measure ’em. Actually, he would like that a little too much.
“You’re the one who pushed her at me to begin with, so I find it a little ironic that you warned her away.”
He sipped his fancy water before replying. “That was a one-night stand. Or it was supposed to be. She needed the distraction.”
“Why don’t you just tell me why you’re really here, Ben,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Has she ever told you about her mom?”
“I know she passed not long before we met.”
When the subject came up, it was clear from her body language that Kat didn’t want to talk about it. Considering there was a whole hell of a lot of stuff I didn’t talk about, I’d never pushed it. I figured she’d tell me when she was ready.
“She never told you the whole horrible truth, did she?”
I shook my head. I could have found out. It wouldn’t have taken much of my time. But I didn’t want to invade her privacy that way either. Some things were better left buried.
“No.”
“And you never pushed?”
“No.”
“You’re both so fucking stubborn, it’s a miracle you’re together.”
“Hey now—” He could take jabs at me, but he’d better watch it when he talked about Kat.
Benjie held up a hand. “I don’t mean in a bad way. I love that woman more than anyone in my life. She almost broke when her mom died.”
Everything he said next hit me like bullets to the chest. Her mom had ALS, and Kat had shouldered it all when her dad walked out. Emotionally, financially, and physically.
“Jesus,” I whispered. My chest ached at the thought of Kat going through all of that on her own.
“She didn’t break, but she lost a piece of herself. I still think it’s a freaking miracle she actually married you, because I would’ve said she didn’t believe in marriage anymore after her dad walked out.”
Benjie turned away and coughed, a long hacking one, and grabbed another cocktail napkin to cover his mouth.
“So, why are you telling me this now?” I asked when he turned back.
“Because there might come a time when I can’t be there for her, and someone needs to know what she’s been through. Kat is strong, but everyone has their breaking point.” He met my gaze. “You need to be there to pick up the pieces.”
*
Present day
I should have seen it. He all but told me that something was coming, and I was too caught up in thinking about how horrible her mom’s death must have been for Kat that I didn’t see what was right in front of my face. Even when Benjie coughed, it didn’t occur to me that he was dying and that in two months he’d be gone.
But he warned me. All but laid it out that she was going to be put through the crusher again, and he would be the one to do it this time. The problem was, he didn’t realize that by my rushing home to be with Kat when she found out he was gone, I set something into motion that would tear me apart from the inside out.
I tried to pick up the pieces, but I was too fucked up to get them all.
*
One year ago
We both felt like we were walking through a fog on that cemetery sidewalk, but for different reasons. Kat hadn’t stopped crying since I got home from the airport. Even when I thought she was cried out, she’d put her earbuds in and listen to Benjie’s favorite album, and silent tears would drip down her face.
Because he knew it was coming, he’d planned his entire ceremony himself, down to the green alligator-skin casket with brass tacks and the ban on black clothes.
Benjie’s brothers and friends had carried the casket, and Kat had followed behind with a spray of yellow lilies. Yellow roses weren’t enough to symbolize their friendship, Benjie’s funeral notes had read.