13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Elias

Seventeen Years Old

“I really hate that our families didn't holiday together this year,” I groaned. I was lying in bed in the dark. I couldn't fall asleep for the life of me. I hated sleeping alone with every fiber of my being. My brain was too loud.

“I know but it’s only for a week.”

I sighed. Loudly.

“What's wrong, Mouse?”

“Is it silly to say that I miss you?”

There was a pause. “No Mouse, it's not. I miss you too. Though my bed no longer has a human ice pack in it, so that's nice.”

I gasped. “You take that back! You love having me in your bed.”

“Keep telling yourself that. You’re like the stray cat that keeps coming in and making himself at home.”

“You take that back too! Also, I want a cat. I think I would be an awesome cat dad! Did you know their purrs are meant to be therapeutic?”

There was a low rumble in the other line. “I'll get you a cat someday.”

I couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle into the darkness. "As long as it's adopted. We can't go getting a fancy pedigree when there are so many rescues that need homes.”

There was another huff of laughter from the other end of the line. "We? I said I’d get you a cat. I'm a dog person," he replied, his tone teasing.

I grinned, knowing exactly how this conversation would play out. "You're totally that big tough guy who says they never wanted the cat, and then I'll find you snuggled on the couch together."

"Am not. I'm totally the one who’ll let the dog sleep on the bed though."

“So me, the cat, and the dog—better get a big bed.”

There was a long pause, and I wondered if he’d drifted off to sleep. "Jar?" I prompted, seeking confirmation.

Silence.

"Okay, maybe you fell asleep. Night, Jarman. Miss you…" I murmured softly. I ended the call—reluctantly—and hugged my pillow tightly, trying to conjure the feeling of his arms around me as I finally drifted off to sleep.

Voice message: November 3rd. 9 am.

“Hey, Eli. I uh, look: I'm calling because I need to know that you’re okay. I am so sorry for keeping secrets from you. I was just scared. I want to explain it all. Please give me a call so we can clear the air. Okay, well… bye.”

Voice message: November 10th. 9:00.

“Hey Mouse. Me again. I hope life's been treating you well. I would love to know what's been going on. I… well I’ve been good. Work’s good, my team is great. The guys all say hey, they miss you. And I ah… I have a boyfriend now. I would love to tell you about him. Hope to hear from you soon. Bye.

Voice message: November 17th. 9:00.

Hey, me again. I suppose you can see a pattern here. I’m not sure if you are even listening to these voice messages but if you are, I really do hope you're okay. You're never far from my mind… okay well, please call me.

Voice message: November 23rd. 9:00.

Hey, so my team is on the top of the leaderboard. I would love to take credit for it but my assistant coach is great, and ah my boyfriend is into hockey, so his advice has helped. And you know Tyler: he can't help himself. He’s been here to help when he isn't off being a hockey star. Hockey feels weird without you, though. Do you still watch it? Feels weird thinking of you without skates on. Well I hope you're enjoying work. Call me.

Voice message: November 29th. 9:00.

Eli, please. I’m trying. Call me.

Voice message: December 5th. 9:00.

Hey, it 's your favorite time of the year! It's already snowing here, which made me think of you. You always were the first to run out and catch the first snowflakes on your fingertips. It's the first year I won’t be with you to see it. It feels…frankly it sucks, Eli. Please just call me back.

Voice message: December 11th. 9:00.

Hey, did you watch last night's game? Wow, just wow. I don't know about you, but I couldn't help but smile. I really think we’re watching history unfold. Well, that's if you watched it. Anyways, I watched a documentary after because I couldn't sleep from all the excitement. It was about wolves, and I wondered if you had watched it. I could imagine you crying when the injured baby wolf got left behind. But I'll spoil it for you: the alpha came back for him. I could hear your narration as if you were right beside me. Anyways, call me.

Voice message: December 17th. 9:00.

I went Christmas tree shopping with Cal today. He has you matched for Christmas spirit. He might even be worse. My house looks like it's been shat on by elves. But Jamie and Ty’s friend Holden are coming from Australia, so Cal wants them to feel welcome. I wish we were talking so you could show me your apartment. In my mind it's even more of a Christmas explosion. Call me.

Voice message: December 23rd. 9:00.

It's me, happy Christmas Eve Eve. Hopefully I’ll see you after Christmas… I'm bringing my boyfriend to meet the family and it's kind of scary. Were you this scared when you brought Jenna home? Actually, I doubt that. Not much scares you. Miss you, Mouse.

I lost track of how many times I replayed those voice messages. It became a habit, one that bordered on obsessive. Yet I couldn't bring myself to return his calls. This was his fault. He put this barrier between us when he decided he needed space—when he decided not to let me in. That barrier had carved out a new facet of myself, one I struggled to recognize as I stared into the mirror of our family holiday home. Despite my neatly groomed appearance, my reflection seemed foreign. My face no longer felt like my own. I couldn't even find a trace of the person I used to be. With a heavy sigh, I forced my facial muscles into some semblance of a smile, though it felt hollow and unfamiliar.

As I made my way down the hall, I couldn't help but stop outside the room where Jarman would normally be staying. My gaze lingered on the two sets of towels Mom had laid out, a silent acknowledgment of his presence and that of his boyfriend . It had been the only topic of conversation all night.

I bit my tongue as my father voiced his contradictory opinions, claiming he had no issue with "those sorts of people" but lamenting Kyle—Shane's father—having a son who couldn’t “carry on the family name.” I desperately searched for any sign of dissent from my sisters, hoping they would refute such narrow-minded opinions, but they remained silent. I only bowed my head in shame. Maybe that’s why Shane hadn’t told me. The thought stung and I pushed it aside, refusing to entertain the idea that I was anything like him.

You're turning out just like him anyways.

I ignored that voice in my head. This Christmas was different. My father spoke to me about work, even when I hoped that this would be my one reprieve from it. My sisters were so wrapped up in their boyfriends who made pathetic attempts at awkward small talk with me. I think one was Jacob, I heard my sister mention him a few times. My sisters changed boyfriends like I changed clothes. I seemed to be the only one who erred on the side of caution when it came to relationships.

“It's a shame you and Jenna didn’t work out honey. She was really cute.”

Yeah, she was fucking adorable when she was getting railed by another man in our bed. “Not meant to be I guess,” I managed. I listened idly as mom talked to my sisters and their flavors of the month while dad grilled each one like they’d actually stick around. I think my sisters used our parents as a screening process and so far, no one had met their standards. Eventually they were distracted enough for me to excuse myself from the table—no one noticed I’d hardly touched my plate. I just didn’t have an appetite. My mind travelled to the fact that Shane would be arriving soon with his boyfriend. I couldn't help but feel replaced. It wasn’t logical, because we were never together. I’d never looked at Shane that way, but someone needed to tell that to my stomach.

The time came for presents and I sat quietly while my sisters gushed over the matching Tiffany bracelets I’d gotten them. Cassidy, the eldest and the one dating Jacob, handed everyone a box, and waited anxiously by the tree. I looked to my parents and my sister as they opened the gift. I lifted the lid on my own, revealing a onesie that said, “World’s Greatest Uncle.” My eyes shot to Cassidy.

A year ago, the thought of being an uncle would have excited me. Yet I couldn’t muster up any kind of response. The only emotion that bubbled up was worry—likely since we’d only just met Jacob. Seriously, I only just managed to remember his name. My mom screamed and jumped for joy, while my father looked at Jacob like he had… well, like he’d gotten his daughter pregnant. The poor guy shrank back in his seat. My sisters formed a mass of bouncing curls and excited squeals as I sat there watching on like a spectator in my own life. The wave of questions came next: when was she due? Boy or girl? It wasn’t until the chattering died down that they all looked at each other as if they were missing something. It was only then that I realized I hadn’t moved—or spoken. My sisters gave me puzzled expressions. The silence filled the room like they were waiting for something, for me to squawk or roar… anything .

“This is amazing Cas. You will be a great mom,” I settled, but the room remained silent and Cas gave me an odd smile I had never seen before. She thanked me, then turned back to the more exciting people in the family. Once again, I found myself breaking away from the group. Not in the mood for partying, I made my way up the stairs ignoring the whispers from my family below.

A commotion of voices jolted me awake, and I groggily checked the standard black digital clock. Fuck . It was already ten in the morning. Somehow, I had managed to sleep through both dinner and breakfast, though part of me wished I could have slept longer. I shook off the brain fog and I peeled myself from the bed, still dressed in yesterday's clothes.

Approaching the window, I peered out to see the scene unfolding outside. The Jarman family spilled out of cars parked on the drive. Mr. and Mrs. Jarman emerged, their easy smiles hinting at the familiarity of the post-Christmas chaos that always accompanied gatherings between our families.

But it was him —the sight of Shane— that caught me off guard. For a moment, I forgot how imposing he could be, his broad shoulders accentuated by the thick jacket he wore, his neatly groomed beard and closely cropped hair hadn’t changed since I last saw him. Overwhelmed by the flood of emotions hitting me, I tried to look away. But my body wouldn’t move.

As Shane rounded the car to open the door for his passenger, my sisters erupted in a chorus of "awws" that filtered through my bedroom window. "What a gentleman!" they exclaimed; admiration evident in their voices. If I could have torn my eyes away from the scene, I would have rolled them. But I couldn't. My attention remained fixed on Shane's boyfriend. He was good-looking, taller than me but not as tall as Shane. He was built like an athlete, with striking brown hair and an intimate smile directed at Shane.

My stomach roiled, the realization of what I had lost crashing down on me with brutal force—the realization of what he meant to me.

Then Shane's gaze lifted, almost as if he could sense my stare. I jumped away from the window, unwilling to let him catch me looking—even if we’d be spending the day together anyway. I briefly toyed with the idea of concocting an excuse to leave early—maybe citing work—but quickly dismissed it. The office was closed for the holidays, and I had no pets or friends to use as a plausible reason. Even feigning illness wouldn’t work since Mom would never let me drive home alone if I weren’t feeling well.

With a defeated sigh, I resigned myself to the inevitable and got changed. I took more time than usual on my hair and carefully selected my nicest trousers and a form-fitting cardigan—I didn’t let myself think of Shane. As I caught sight of myself in the mirror, however, my heart sank. I didn’t recognize the person staring back at me. It only served as a painful reminder of how much I’d changed. Once defined by a muscular hockey build, I now sported a lean runner's physique, devoid of the impressive biceps and thick thighs I once prided myself on.

I bit back the wave of self-loathing threatening to engulf me. But the nagging feeling lingered, haunting me with the realization that I no longer recognized—or even liked—the person I had become. Worst of all, I had no idea how to change it.

Summoning all my strength, I ventured downstairs, steeling myself for the inevitable encounter. Most of the Jarmans were gathered in the entrance and living room, caught in that initial flurry of greetings before settling down for a meal.

Like a magnet, Shane’s eyes met mine the second I stepped into the room. They widened, his mouth falling open as he took me in. A fleeting expression flickered across his features, something I couldn't quite decipher. Ignoring whatever it might mean, I commanded my facial muscles to keep my mask in place.

I exchanged greetings with my extended sisters, their partners, and children—midst their enthusiastic exclamations of "Mouse!" Each one of them embraced me with enthusiasm.

"Hi," I managed to utter, the words strained through their tight grip.

As they released me, I lowered my gaze, avoiding their loaded stares. Their eyes reminded me all too vividly of his—the ones I had once lost myself in countless times. Which, until that moment, I hadn’t realized I’d committed to memory. There was an underrated allure to brown eyes. While others gravitated towards the sparkle of blue or green, it was the warm richness of brown that always ensnared me, melting me like chocolate with just a glance.

An awkward silence settled over the room, waiting for someone to break it. All eyes turned to me, as if that was my job to break the void. There may have been a time when I effortlessly filled such silences, but those days were long gone.

"Well, why doesn’t everyone get themselves settled?” Dad suggested, breaking the tension with a clap of his hands. “The first round of food is in the oven, warmed and ready to be eaten."

I stepped aside as the Jarmans scurried up the stairs to their respective bedrooms. Kyle paused by me, pulling me into one of his signature hugs. "Hey, Mouse. Good to see you," he murmured before ascending the stairs with only a brief glance over his shoulder.

Anne followed, planting a kiss on my cheek before disappearing after her husband. With everyone gone, only Shane and his boyfriend remained, patiently awaiting his turn. Standing there in front of him, the ache of our estrangement intensified. I remembered the birthmark on his left shoulder, the one shaped like a heart. I knew he was a secret cuddler, despite his protests. I knew his preference for salty snacks over sweet, and about his allergy to bees. He wasn’t scared of heights, but afraid of falling. Yet he always climbed trees with me, shaking hands and all because "if you fall, I am falling with you." We once got kicked out of our fifth-grade class for uncontrollable laughter, unable to stifle our amusement whenever we looked at each other. All he ever said was, "If you laugh, I laugh."

As we stood there in a silent standoff in the entryway, our entire lives flashed before our eyes. But I wasn't his best friend anymore, and he was no longer mine.

"You look different," he finally said, breaking the heavy silence that hung between us.

"Time does that," I replied nonchalantly, but the sound of my voice seemed to startle him. His face faltered, and his eyes bore into mine, searching for something—perhaps a flicker of who I used to be.

"Mouse—"

"So, this is the boyfriend?" I interjected, shifting my attention to the man standing beside him. "I'm Elias." I extended my hand to the stranger, who could have easily graced the cover of a sports magazine. He wasn't nearly as striking as Shane, but there was an undeniable boyish charm about him—flawless in a way I wasn’t.

I decided not to acknowledge the fact I’d just thought of Shane as attractive.

"Jordan. I've heard a lot about you," he replied with a show-stopping smile.

"Nice to meet you. If you'll excuse me," I muttered, forcing a smile before turning away, unable to process the emotions making my head spin.

As I made my way toward the front door, Shane whispered something to Jordan before leaning in to kiss him. My stomach took a nosedive; the sensation akin to the one I felt that night at the club.

My eyes burned, and I knew I needed to escape before the tears fell. Before Shane could follow me—because I knew he would—I snatched my keys and bolted.

"Mouse!" he called after me, his voice accompanied by crunching snow under his footsteps. Fumbling with the keyless entry, I cursed under my breath as the mechanism failed to get the memo, trapping me in a suffocating bubble of emotion. Come on… unlock you overpriced temperamental car.

"Eli, stop!" Shane's voice cut through my panicked thoughts, causing me to pause mid step and turn to face him. His commanding presence loomed over me, somehow comforting and familiar.

"Jesus, Eli, you can't even be in a room with me for five minutes without needing to run?".

I looked at him, really looked at him. And for the first time, I saw him in a different light. I don't know why I had never noticed before how handsome he was. He possessed a rugged, captivating type of beauty—warm brown eyes framed by thick, dark lashes that any woman would kill to have. I should know—I’d spent months funding Jenna's beauty treatments.

A faint dusting of freckles scattered over his nose, and his lips were full and inviting. I found myself inexplicably drawn to him, my body flushing red-hot with an unfamiliar anticipation, my stomach fluttering with nerves.

"What, Shane?" I snapped, causing him to recoil slightly.

"Who are you?" Shane's voice was barely a whisper.

I couldn't help but laugh, because I didn't know the answer to that. I had become the person everyone expected me to be: the man who followed his father’s footsteps. But in that moment, I realized I had lost sight of who I truly was.

I grew up.

"An adult,” I shrugged, my words laced with bitterness. “It was time for the boy to get his head out of the clouds."

Shane's pretty eyes welled with tears, and he tore his gaze away. I found myself mesmerized by the movement of his lips as he licked them nervously, until another movement caught my attention. Jordan stepped out onto the porch, confusion warring with concern as he took in the scene. His presence served as a stark reminder of the reality I was desperately trying to escape.

"Go be with your boyfriend, Shane," I quipped, my voice barely above a whisper as I turned to unlock my doors yet again. I reached for the handle with a trembling hand and this time, the lock responded to the key in my pocket without my frantic tugging.

“For the record, Eli…”

I couldn’t bear to look at Shane, his voice thick with emotion and tears pouring down his cheeks. I sank into the driver's seat, freezing I heard the last thing I ever expected to hear.

“I was in love with the boy who had his head in the clouds."

The silence following those words was deafening.

My gaze shot to his, the weight of his confession hitting me like a freight train. But the sight in front of me shattered my heart. I closed the door on him, shutting him out just as I had shut out everything since I left Canada that summer.

As I drove away, the absence of my phone went unnoticed amidst the chaos of my thoughts. All I cared about was that I no longer had his voice messages to keep me company—and that served as a painful reminder of what I’d lost.

But the silver lining was that without my phone, I didn’t have to answer to my family. They wouldn't have to witness the unraveling of the mask I’d so carefully constructed.

Because the truth was, I didn't know how to explain that I had been in love with my best friend all along.

And I had only realized it when it was too late.