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"It was my fault, you know," I mumbled, resting my arms on the counter and putting my head down, facing Aspen.

I was being a horrible, horrible brother of the groom. I was taking all his time and hogging him up, keeping him from his fiancé. I've kept him standing with me at the bar for God knows how long, but truth be told, I was officially wasted. Being wasted like this, I was rambling on and on, obviously, about my Emmy.

"Was it really? Jeez, I had no idea. I mean, it's not like you've been saying it over and over again."

I sat upright, sniffling. "I lashed out at the worst time possible. I knew what she was like, I knew how she'd react. I didn't think about her at all. I don't blame her, you know. She based her whole future around the choice I made and I flipped on her at the last minute. I betrayed her."

"God, just shut up, already," he groaned, beginning to stand but I grabbed his arm, pulling back down. He eased his arm away. "Why don't you explain to this wonderful gentleman who's been tolerating you all night with me, hmm? Let me go to my fiancé, she's been waiting for me for the longest time."

I looked around, spotting Remy who was standing off to the side, watching Aspen and me with her arms folded across her chest and a sad frown on her face. I groaned letting him go. "Shoo."

He rushed over to her, taking her hands in his immediately while she mumbled something, staring up at him. He spoke quickly, probably rushed apologies, and put his arms around her, pulling her into a hug. She locked her arms around his waist, resting her chin on her chest and staring up at him. He leaned down kissing her forehead before taking her face in his hands, tucking her hair away.

"Ugh," I muttered, turning to the bartender.

"Continuar," he shrugged. Continue.

I chuckled and then continued. "You know, to be honest, I thought it would just blow over. I thought the next day or the day after that or the day after that, she'd come over or call me or do something to fix things between us. It's just... I don't know man," I whined, putting my head back down.

"It felt like I was always the one fixing things between us. But that wasn't true. When I think about it now, she was always there for me. She was with me for everything, through it all. When I fought with my dad because my grades dropped because I focused too much on football, she defended me. Whenever I would hurt myself while playing, she'd take care of me. Whenever I argued with Aspen and felt angry, she'd take my mind off it. She would leave her window open for me every night. Why?" I sat upright again. "Why did I throw it all away? I should have just fixed it like I do."

"¿Por qué?" he asked. Why? "Why would you always fix things?"

I paused, thinking about it for a moment. "Because I always messed it up. I'd say something to hurt her, I'd make her angry just by annoying her. Stupid things."

"Why?"

I blinked. "Because I was scared she liked me too much. Whenever she got too close, made me feel things, I'd pick a fight. But then I'd feel horrible without her and I'd pull her back in. I was a dick."

"Sí," he nodded, cleaning up the glasses.

"I didn't want her to like me. I thought it would ruin our friendship."

"Are you still friends?"

"I hope so."

"Pero..." But... "Don't you like her?" he asked.

"Of course, I like her. I like... love her maybe. I'm like... crazy about her. It's like... insane. I like... miss her."

"Entonces," he sighed, thinking. So... "Now you are not worried? About ruining the friendship?"

I stayed quiet.

"Because now you want more than just a friend... no? You love her, no?"

"Maybe?" I shrugged. "But I can't—"

"Shh!" he hissed, glancing behind me.

I spun the barstool around, spotting Emilia as she walked over. I took the first look around the banquet hall in a while and realized it was mostly empty. Everybody was leaving or already gone.

She stopped in front of me, sighing. "You've been drinking all night, Adam."

"So?" I mumbled, holding her gaze.

"So, the party's over. Come on, let's go."

"I made a friend," I told her, glancing at the bartender.

"Yeah? What's his name?"

I came up blank.

"Matteo," he answered.

She shook her head at me. "Thanks for keeping him company."

"No problem," he replied.

She turned her attention back to me. "Let's go, come on." She held out a hand, wiggling her fingers.

"Will you be nice or pick another fight?" I frowned, taking her hand and standing up, stumbling.

Sighing, she steadied me. "I think if I pick a fight, you might cry. So, I'll be nice. Promise." I grinned, chuckling, and put my arms around her, pulling her in. She let out a breath and patted my back a few times before rubbing it quickly. "Come on," she persisted, sounding a bit irritated now. "I can't carry you, don't go limp on me. Walk with me."

I walked with her, almost tripping every few steps. Eventually, we reached the elevator, then our room. I went and sat by the coffee table, closing my eyes, feeling exhaustion and sleep hit me.

"I'm going to change and be right back, okay? Don't fall asleep. Adam."

I hummed but I was already dozing off. I was falling asleep just sitting in the chair. My chin was dipping down, my head hanging in the air as I took even breaths and my eyes remained shut. My blazer was already off from the bar and I carried it before draping it on the arm of the chair. I was halfway out of my senses, I was practically asleep, but I could hear her when she came out and walked to her side of the bed.

Her footsteps stopped and then resumed again until I heard her sit at the foot of the bed. She cursed softly under her breath and I realized she was in front of me now. Then she grabbed the knot of my tie which was as crooked as always because I can't tie a tie for the life of me. She took the knot and started pulling it loose slowly, struggling a bit where it was tight. Slowly, she untied the tie and sighed in relief once she was done. "Finally," she mumbled to herself.

I opened my eyes, feeling her body close to mine. I wanted to hold her here. Her breath got caught in her throat while she stayed frozen, just staring at me. I heard her take in a quick gasp.

"I was just taking off your tie," she whispered quickly.

I said nothing and held her gaze, lifting my chin a bit.

I wanted her so fucking much, it made my heart want to burst.

She stood up suddenly, dropping my tie on the small coffee table beside me. She blinked once, spinning around and barely taking a step forward towards the bed only to be stopped by my firm grip on her wrist. She froze, her entire body going stiff as I held onto her.

A second went by, then two, and then three before I decided not to care and pulled her back. She took in a sharp breath as I snaked an arm around her waist from behind and pulled her down into my lap. We sat like this in silence for a few moments. I exhaled softly, resting my chin on her shoulder from behind. "Can we just sit like this?" I whispered against her ear, noticing the chills down the back of her neck. "Just for five minutes?" I peered at her and saw her close her eyes.

"Just five minutes," she mumbled.

I hummed in agreement. "Just five minutes," I repeated.

It might have been five minutes, it might have been more, but she eventually tried standing up, patting my hand that was resting on her stomach. "Get in bed, Adam. Go to sleep."

I hummed, not removing myself from her.

"What?" she sighed, sounding a little frustrated.

"I don't want to let go," I muttered.

"Why?" she asked softly.

"You'll disappear, you'll start to feel far from me again."

"Adam, you're drunk. You might not even remember this tomorrow morning."

"So? I still miss you, drunk and sober. Let me hold you."

She paused, tracing circles on my arm with her nails. "Why don't you hold me in bed, hmm?"

"Will you let me?"

"I might," she whispered. She did. She let me hold her in bed when she finally managed to get me into it. She glanced down and then back up at me, a smile tugging at her lips. She laughed softly, covering her eyes and then sighing. "You sleep with your shoes on, Adam?"

I kicked them off, hearing them land on the floor with a thud.

"Go to sleep," she said gently.

I was holding her. But she wasn't holding me. I had my arms around her, my leg over hers. She still felt really far. "Hold me," I demanded.

She hesitated but she did. She put her other leg over mine while bringing up a hand, tracing my face delicately. "You'll forget this tomorrow morning," she mumbled.

"And if I don't?" I questioned.

"Then please act like you did. Because if you bring it up, that means we have to talk. I don't want to talk yet."

"Okay," I agreed, closing my eyes. I was still awake, hoping I'd remember this.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Why?" I mumbled sleepily.

"I'm never going to fight with you again. I'm going to try not to, I promise I'll try."

I opened my eyes when I realized she sounded upset like she was about to cry.

"The next time I bring up the past, it'll be to talk it out. I'm really sorry."

"Are you crying?" I couldn't see if her face had tears streaming down in the darkness.

"No. Almost."

"Don't cry, Emmy."

"I keep making this difficult, Adam."

"That's okay. I don't hate you for it." I gave her waist a reassuring squeeze. "I promise."

She paused and then asked, "Do you know what we're doing?"

"No," I answered.

"Do you know what you're feeling?"

"Yes."

"Can you tell me?"

"Not when I'm drunk."

"Why not?"

"I'll regret it. Do you know what you're feeling?"

She hummed softly. "I think I finally figured it out."

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