Chapter Eighteen

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The only time the three shops employees got together was after work for drinks every Friday night, unless there was a celebration. What they were celebrating tonight was the day the love of his life was born. Jonah had to call to remind Scott it was Astrid's birthday. The conversation about meeting there early to set everything up must have gotten lost in the other conversation they'd had just prior to it on Sunday. Jonah couldn't fault the guy for being distracted.

It wasn't until Jonah was almost finished setting up and Scott walked in. There hadn't been a lot to do. Drop off the big cake he'd picked up that day, get a present table set up and pay the bartender for the partially open bar.

"I can't believe I forgot my daughter's birthday," Scott muttered. "I'm such a fucking asshole."

Jonah waited until Scott dropped himself in a chair at the long ass table the servers had already set up before responding. "You aren't an asshole, dude. You've just got other shit on your mind."

Scott's bushy eyebrows rose and fell back into place before he looked over at Jonah.

He waited for his best friend to say something, but no words came out, so Jonah took the lead. "It isn't drugs or gambling." When Scott's mouth opened to respond, Jonah cut him off. "I talked to Astrid, and she told me about the conversation you two had. I told her the story when I realized you hadn't gone into much detail. I haven't gone to a game or touched any drugs in twenty years."

Scott nodded slow. "That was the first thing that came to mind when you showed up at my house yesterday. It didn't look like just a regular hangover, and I know you watch how much you let yourself drink. Something about yesterday just reminded me of back then. It wasn't the same, just gave me that feeling, you know?"

It was an understandable conclusion. The last time Jonah looked like he'd been dragged through hell was when he was dealing with his sister's death. Now he was dealing with another death that was equally permanent, but a very different sort. The death of what felt like a lifetime friendship.

Jonah sat at the head of the table, two chairs away from Scott, and kept his eyes focused on the green placemat in front of him. "I-" When his voice came out scratchy, Jonah let out a cough. "I talked to a lawyer today. Said the paperwork shouldn't take long since there won't be a buyout."

"Jonah."

He coughed again, once again trying to strengthen his voice, but it was pointless. "Once the paperwork's ready to go, I'll get my name removed from everything at the bank."

"Jonah," Scott repeated.

"There's a few houses in my price range in Meadow Creek that I'm supposed to look at next weekend. I've got enough for a down payment in my account. My realtor is supposed to have someone come over next week to take photos, and an appraiser should be there on Friday."

Scott slammed his fist against the table. "Jonah!"

"I love you." Jonah practically choked on the three words as they left his mouth. He was breaking, and his normally relaxed exterior felt like it was shattering all around him. "I know guys aren't supposed to say that to other guys, but there it is. You've been my best friend for so many goddamn years that I barely remember my life without you in it.

"Eventually my words are just going to seem like bullshit to you, but they're not. If it wasn't for you, I'd probably be dead or strung out, barely living. I owe you everything, and I need you to understand that I didn't mean to fuck everything up."

"Look at me and tell me what you fucked up."

When Jonah could look at him, it was only for a moment before it made his stomach turn. His eyes were already watering, his body nearly trembling out of his seat. Losing Scott would be the absolute worst moment of his life once the time came. It already felt like it was killing him from the inside out, slowly suffocating.

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