2. Ending and Beginnings Jax

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I hopped on the light rail train to the Littleton Park n’ Ride from my errand downtown and bounced my legs without stopping. The jeweler got Heather’s ring perfect, and it ate a hole through my pocket to be shown off. Part of me wished I’d used Shine Co., especially since I’d heard the ads my whole life on the radio. Just off Arapahoe road...

Who else was there to show but Chris? I had him to thank for meeting my girl anyway. We’d gone through everything together: met as freshmen in college at Boulder, got our MBAs at UC Denver, and worked together at our first jobs out of school. He thought he knew my type, so he hooked me up with Heather after a blind date with her didn’t pan out on his end. He said he wasn’t interested in her demure sweetness.

Lucky me. I loved to charm, and she soaked up every bit of my cheesy worship. Two years was long enough to know I wanted her forever. She deserved an extravagant, ridiculous, over-the-top proposal and with both of us pushing thirty, I was ready to kickstart the next chapter of my life.

Chris would temper my excitement and talk me down. He’d give me a beer and laugh about how he couldn’t imagine only picking one woman for the rest of his life, and I’d counter by saying how grateful I was that I’d been picked at all. Predictable? Sure, but he’d be happy for me in the end, like he always was. My biggest problem would be convincing him not to do something too crazy as my best man.

I found my car in the parking lot and drove the ten minutes to Chris’s place, cursing every red light for making me wait longer. My fingers drummed on the steering wheel out of rhythm with the radio. Should I get down on one knee for him? Shit, he’d love that. My heart rushed like I was about to jump off a bridge when I turned down his street and finally parked.

I took a deep breath to slow my pulse. “Chris, sweetheart, love of my life, will you marry me?” Chuckling, I pulled out the black velvet box and admired the prominent diamond surrounded by smaller sparkles one last time. I wasn’t a big fan of the round cut, but that’s what Heather wanted. This was all about her. All for her, the girl I loved. I imagined she’d chime with anxious laughter to see how I’d picked the one she described last year when I casually asked what her fantasy was.

I stepped out with a whistle and tossed my keys in the air while pocketing the ring box again. My fingers absently fumbled around my key fob to lock the car as I walked up Chris’s driveway, but something down the street beeped at the same moment I pressed the button instead of my Subi’s mid-pitch horn.

My brow furrowed and I did it again. Boop-beep. The extra key fob to Heather’s Nissan wasn’t too unlike mine, and I often got them mixed up. I pressed her button instead of my own. Horror in my hand.

I turned and did it a third time. The lights on her maroon sedan flashed from halfway down the other side of the street. Chris’s silver Buick sat at the top of his driveway, as it always did.

My mouth watered. I wanted to puke. Almost did. What the hell was she doing here?

I locked my car for sure, then took slow steps to Chris’s door. Ghosts of all the times we sat together on his porch yelling about the Broncos were permanently etched in the wicker furniture beside me. The four chairs and small table were my housewarming present. His barbecues were the best parties all year, and over time, I opted to stop going to local RPG meetups so I could hang out right here. His place was like the set of Friends , always flooded with people who laughed and pretended to be one huge family.

I hesitated before ringing the bell. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe she knew someone else in the neighborhood. Unlucky coincidence. I sucked in cool summer air through my nostrils and tried to convince myself that my nerves were talking too loud. When I couldn’t wait anymore, I thumbed the button, and an obnoxious off-key melody sang through his house like a creepy ice cream truck.

Chris’s voice came through an open upstairs window. “Shit, who’s that?”

A girl answered, but I couldn’t make out what she said, and she was too quiet to be familiar.

Please, God, be wrong. My heart beat so fast, it hurt.

Thumping echoed through the house. The peephole darkened and stayed that way for several seconds—longer than it should’ve. He stared at me. Processed me. Fought with himself about opening the door.

I rang the bell again without blinking.

He unlocked the house but left the screen door between us. “Hey, Jax—what’s up?” His right hand drummed against the door jamb afterward. He never did that. Never kept me outside. His house was my house.

“You gonna invite me in?” I asked while commanding the shudder in my throat to stop.

He ran that same right hand through his receding brown hair and avoided my eyes. “What are you doin’ here? Don’t you have some fancy errand tonight? Said you’d be busy ‘til eight.”

“Got it done faster than I thought.”

“Cool. Cool. Well, it’s not really the best time for me right now, so—”

“I don’t wanna keep you too long. Can I show you something?”

Chris absently licked his lips and puffed his chest up and down like he was out of breath, even though he stood in place. After an uncomfortable few seconds, he nodded quickly and stepped out of the screen door, folding his arms tightly. “Sure. Yeah. No problem.”

I wanted so badly to ignore my gut and fake propose to my oldest friend. The ring in my pocket still wanted to be seen. Fate got to decide what happened next. I pulled out the first thing my fingers could find.

The keys won.

“Check this out.” Pointing down the street, I pressed Heather’s lock button again. “Weird, huh? That’s Heather’s car.”

His face lost all color. He swallowed hard.

“Any idea why she’d be around?” I asked.

The way his mouth contorted was confession enough. He didn’t apologize. Offered no excuses. Chris stared, and his body language pleaded the fifth. Guilty by omission.

I put my chest to his. “Hmm?” My instinct was to slam him into the sidewalk. We weren’t super athletic, but we both tapped out at just over six feet. If I’d started a fight, it would’ve gotten ugly fast.

Heather came downstairs and froze when she caught my eye through the screen door.

“Hi, sweetie,” I said with a cloying tone, not stepping away from Chris at all.

“Jaxson?” She tugged on the shirt wrapped around her body. Chris’s black striped button-down. His lucky shirt. The one he always wore on dates and said he always got laid in. Now her lucky dress.

Chris slowly raised his hands in defense, looking pathetic in his sweatpants and T-shirt, and I bet underneath he wore nothing else since I’d interrupted them. “Look, it’s not—”

“Not what it looks like? You fuckin’ kidding me with this shit?” I shoved him backward, aching all over with betrayal. “Unbelievable.”

As I stormed into the house with Chris close behind, Heather shrieked, “Jaxson, listen to me, please. Baby, I’m sorry.”

“Bro, you don’t...come on....”

Their voices became muddied and dull to my ears. I found her keys hanging by the door and took off the extra fob to my car and her house key.

She screamed, “What are you doing? Stop, please. Baby—”

“Can it.” I dangled the orphaned keys in her face. “You’re not coming back. I’ll put your shit out tomorrow. And you —” I turned to Chris and let my anger erupt into spit as I spoke. “We’re done. You hear me? I don’t ever wanna see you again.”

He got misty-eyed and fidgeted in shame. Didn’t even try to cover his own ass.

Heather’s loud sobs broke my heart, because as her boyfriend, I’d been programmed to hear those tears and comfort her. Not anymore. I deserved those tears. Every last fucking one.

“I just wanna know one thing,” I said, trading glances between their lowered, shameful expressions. “How long has it been goin’ on?”

Heather’s mouth opened, but she said nothing and looked at Chris for guidance.

“No, no. Don’t you dare do that shit. Don’t come up with a lie together. You owe me this.” I snapped my fingers quickly, adding panic to the moment. “Come on. Tell me. Spit it out. When did it start? When ?”

“S-September,” she spat, curling in on herself.

“September?” I asked, doing math in my head. “ September? Nine months of this?”

Chris finally spoke up. “Jax—”

“How long after my birthday, you fuckwad?” I got close to him again. “When?”

He gulped. Silence again.

“Right. Jesus. I’m thinkin’ of you at my Christmas table. Hangin’ out with me and my dad. You looked me in the face and said I was closer to you than your damn brother. Would you do this to him?” My gaze turned back to Heather. “And you , ‘too tired’ on Valentine’s Day.” I let the false quotes linger in the air. “Said you had too much to eat for lunch and needed a break. Oh, I bet. I bet. Bet you had him for lunch that day, didn’t you?”

She sobbed harder and hid her face.

I glared. “I bought a damn ring for you.”

“What?” Her eyes shot open wide.

“You disgust me.” I charged to my car, grateful neither of them followed.

After speeding up C-470 to the other side of the city and snaking south again through the stoplights to calm my nerves, I parked at the light rail station again. I’d spent the trip yelling, rehearsing any arguments that might come my way if they chased me down. Now I sat in numb silence. Things I’d never considered became grossly appealing.

I left a voicemail on my boss’s line, doing everything I could to sound semi-professional. “Hey, this is Jax Grady from IT. We talked a few weeks ago about potentially relocating to California for the analyst position and I shot you down...I’m kinda hoping you’ll say it’s still open. I, uh, need to get outta here. If it’s not with our company, I’ll be looking elsewhere. Thanks, and talk to you later.” I hung up and already regretted making the call in the first place, but Future Jax would have to deal with the consequences now.

As much as Heather and Chris’s betrayal stung, I didn’t shed more than a handful of tears. That’s why I waited in the car for so long. The train of emotion was supposed to hit, but it didn’t. What if I hadn’t caught them? Would she have said yes? Would he have stood at my side as best man, then screwed her after our honeymoon?

I stared at the ring and focused on every jewel. It was incredibly ordinary. Pretty, sure—but the more I looked at it, the more I was sure. It might’ve fit Heather, but it didn’t fit me. And she didn’t fit, either. Not when I buried my desire to be wanted and looked at the facts with an objective lens.

I wanted to feel committed to someone. In the end, guess I didn’t care who it was.

The velvet box made a satisfying soundtrack every time I opened and closed it. Creak open, snap shut. Creak open, snap shut. They had their own language, didn’t they? Not the first time I thought that, though it had been years. The light rail train came and went, but I stayed. I even considered sleeping in my car and avoiding the house in case they came to find me.

While scrolling through bullshit online, my phone rang. The boss, returning my call already. My finger slipped, and I answered it by accident.

Shit. “This is Jax,” I said, trying to infuse my voice with more life than I had when I left the voicemail.

“Grady, thanks for answering this late.”

“No problem. I wasn’t expecting to hear from you tonight. Sorry I didn’t wait until tomorrow.”

“No, no. We need to move on this position as soon as possible and haven't had any other takers. You mean it? You’re willing to head up the new office?”

I sighed and nodded, though of course she couldn’t see me. “Yup. I wouldn’t really want anyone else’s hands on the updated system if you’re gonna move the hub out there.”

“Great. Really, really great.” The excitement in her voice was palpable, and I could just see the fist pump in the air that she normally did at meetings when she got what she wanted. “You’ll get a pay bump of course, relocation costs covered. The expansion’s going to be awesome for us, and you’re not a small part in that, Grady.”

It was an empty compliment, but one I needed in the moment. “Thanks.”

“Have family out there? Friends? People to show you around?”

“Nuh-uh. I’m a Colorado native. Californians don’t exactly... excite me. Silicon Valley can’t be too bad though, right?” I squeezed the bridge of my nose and said a prayer that the weather wouldn’t be too hot.

“That’s the best part. We thought we would have to be in San Jose, but most of our investors are coming from Marin. We’ll be in San Francisco proper. You’ll love it there, and we’ll help get you on your feet.”

San Francisco. It stirred up my heart in an old way. A lost way. The same way the ring box did a few minutes ago. Could she...?

“Now, it’s not cheap to live out there, so you might have a bit of a commute. We’ll figure it out. Thanks for this. Really. I’m sorry for whatever’s changed for you, but I can’t afford to have you leave after all we’ve been through. Anything you need, just ask.”

“Sure. Thanks.”

I sighed when the call ended and waited for my heart to catch up to my brain and register what I’d just agreed to. Shock prevented me from feeling anything at all. I didn’t want to chance getting no sleep, so I paid for a hotel room and stayed far away from my place. It wasn’t exactly the kind of “new start” I was hoping for after I’d seen the jeweler, but it was certainly better than the dark hole of anger I felt when leaving the traitors behind.

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D ealing with Heather’s stuff was sticky at best. Told her she could keep anything of mine that she’d tainted. After only a week, I’d purged her from the duplex. As for myself, I packed the few things I wanted to take with me to California, and Dad said he would store anything else I wanted to keep.

Days before leaving, Heather drove up while I loaded the shipping cube on the sidewalk. The bass thumps from her too-loud pop music shook the whole street before she turned off the car.

Fuck, here we go. At least I don’t have to listen to that crap anymore.

Dark circles under her eyes made her look older than usual. No makeup. Not trying. Her curly, natural blonde hair was piled in a messy bun on the top of her head. The only way she could’ve been more pathetic was if mascara streaked down her cheeks. To pour salt in the wound, she wore my old UC Boulder hoodie. “Jax, can I talk to you?”

“No.” I kept pushing the bookcase to the back until it slammed against the side. Dammit, I probably just broke something.

“Please?” She sniffled. “I heard you’re moving.”

“Wow. Somebody’s a genius . ” I rolled my eyes and grabbed the nearby coffee table.

Heather sighed. “I know you can’t forgive me. That’s not why I’m here.”

“I don’t wanna hear this.” I leaned the table up against the bookcase and left it precariously balanced while storming back toward the house.

“Chris is really tore up,” she said.

“I bet.”

“Jax, stop it.”

“What more do you want from me, huh?” I turned around from the raised porch two steps above her. “I gave you two years of my life, brought you into my house, and caught you red-handed with my friend. Stop pretending like that wasn’t the worst fuckin’ thing you coulda done to me.”

Her chin quivered. “I said I was sorry.”

“And?” I stepped down once, then met her level on the grass. “Why’d you come back here?”

She shifted her gaze to her strappy sandals, which she took off and slid back on. “Your blessing?”

I burst out laughing and looked to the sky with a sarcastic smile. “Christ. I shoulda known when you started working late nights at your firm. Still wanna say your tax clients were the problem?”

“Please—”

“Nah, I think you were just having Chris check you for hidden assets, huh?” I turned away from her and kept working, steeling myself to keep from imploding at her presence. “Sure. You have my blessing. You assholes deserve each other.”

She blubbered like she did at Chris’s house but still refused to leave. “I’m sorry, okay? I know I messed up. He does, too. We want to make sure you’ll be okay. Where are you going?”

“San Fran.” I threw boxes into the cube now, one after the other, too angry to set them up nicely as I’d planned.

“You hate California.”

“No, I hate California transplants and seeing memories of you and Chris everywhere I go.” Arguing with her finally beckoned the tears I’d done so well at holding in. I wiped my eyes fast and picked up another heavy box to pass it off as sweat. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m kinda busy. Please get off my lawn.”

“You’ve been through too much with Chris. Please forgive him. I started everything, and he always felt guilty.”

I lost my patience and dropped the last box while I yelled, “Is that supposed to make me feel better? That he screwed you and felt bad about it? Wasn’t enough to stop either of you, and now you’re here acting like you give a shit.”

“But I—”

“You know something? The last time somebody broke my heart, they knew they were doin’ it and actually looked like they felt sad for hurting me. Ripped off the bandage and ended things fast. You only feel bad ‘cause you got caught. Same with him. I’m worth more than that.” I sidestepped her and went to the house one last time, intent on shutting her out.

“Who are you more upset about losing? Me or Chris?”

A surge of adrenaline squeezed my insides as I turned to her. “Excuse me?”

She sniffled and tugged at the bottom of my hoodie as if her current torn-apart status was somehow my fault. “Are you in love with him? Is that why you’re acting like this?”

“Wow.” I shook my head and scoffed. “No, I’m not in love with Chris. I got drunk and told you I was bi, and now you’re tryin’ to hurt me with it. That doesn’t mean I wanna fuck everything that moves; all it means is I care more about who a person is than what’s between their legs. Turns out I shoulda cared more about what was behind your ribcage—it’s nothing but a goddamn void.” I slammed the front door and went to the basement, blocking her number and Chris’s, too.

I needed something better than the vapid girl upstairs and the weak bond that wasted my time. Something real. Something permanent. I knew exactly what I was looking for.

Maybe this was my chance to find it.