Page 8 of When Forever Falls Apart

I shake my head, interrupting with, “Uh-uh… don’t you breathe another word.”

“Sorry, forgot I broke the rule. Do not talk about your sister’s sex life in front of you.”

“Thank you, appreciated. Now, how about we play a game of pool?”

Billie is carefree and easy to talk to, and apparently I’m not the only one who thinks she’s easy on the eyes.

Trey is on the prowl tonight, and he hangs out with us in an effort to hook up with Billie. Clearly, ruining Eva and Aston’s night was not enough. The guy is tiresome—Trey is not reading the room. Billie eyes me many times so I’ll step in to get him away from her.

Eventually, she purposely lets out a yawn. “I should head out. I’ve had a long day.”

“I can take you home,” Trey interjects.

I place my hand on his shoulder, close to beating this fucker up. “Sorry, buddy. If I don’t get her home, Eva will kill me. Anyways, it’s been nice seeing you.”

Trey frowns with disappointment, chasing a beer back to repair his broken ego. He goes back to his group, which has gotten rowdier as the night has gone on. Any minute now, Franklin will boot their asses out to the curb.

Inside the car, Billie breathes a sigh of relief. “You saved me. Trey is cute, but you don’t go for your friends’ sloppy seconds.”

I chuckle. “Sloppy seconds sounds so…”

“Sloppy.” Billie laughs, then sighs. “Besides, I’m not ready to date. I need more time to process life without my mom, you know?”

“Yeah, of course,” I say, unsure there is anything else to say.

The rest of the ride is quiet. Billie’s gaze is distant and pensive, as if she has a lot on her mind. As we pull up in front of her place, I shift the car into park and let the engine idle, the faint hum barely breaking the silence.

Back in college, this is where I’d spin some line to get into bed with a random girl. I’d fuck until midnight, then slip out when she was fast asleep, never to return a single call. The memories of those reckless moments linger in my mind, reminding me of how much time has passed.

“Thanks for the ride, Elliot.”

“Anytime.”

“I’m not usually so quiet, it’s just—”

“Hey, don’t apologize, it’s fine. We all need our moments of solitude.”

She nods, then exits the car.

I put my foot on the gas, then drive the twenty minutes back to the dock where I’ve been crashing. It’s a houseboat—nothing extravagant, but a change from living in an apartment. The son of one of my dad’s old buddies was renting it out while he was traveling around Africa, so I took him up on the offer to look after his place while I stayed here.

As I park the car, I see my motorcycle standing beside the front door, which I’ve grown very fond of. It was an impromptu purchase, and since I got it for a reasonable price, I can easily sell it once I’m done with this place.

If Eva hadn’t insisted on my picking her and Aston up, I would have ridden. It only dawns on me now that I have no idea how they got home. Cinnamon Springs doesn’t have any ride shares, and only a few cabs hang out by the station when a train comes in.

I pull out my phone to call her, but then slip it back inside my pocket.

My sister is fine.

She has her whole life worked out.

I glance at my surroundings, taking in the tall trees silhouetted by the lake in front of me. It’s just me, this boat, and my bike, my most prized possession.

Once, the world was at my feet. I was a Michelin-starred chef working at world-class restaurants in Cannes and then Paris. Now, I’m stuck in this town with nothing but older women setting me up with their daughters.

Boredom creeps in, and as I stand here listening to a lone owl hoot somewhere in the distance, I realize how complacent I’ve become in this small town. The weight of my inaction settles heavily on my shoulders. I’ve always been someone who gets things done, especially when it involves my career. Maybe it’s also been my downfall. I ran so quickly from Paris to escape the comfort of my relationship with Nicole. It’s almost like I was chasing more.

“A penny for your thoughts?”