The Wrong Brother

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~~SLOANE~~

***

I've been in love with my best friend, Finn Hartley, since we met in college ten years ago. 

It's not like I'll ever tell him I have feelings for him. I know he doesn't see me that way. He probably won't ever see me that way.

Right now, we're in his living room, and I'm holding him to my chest, listening to him sob. 

That damn girlfriend of his has broken his heart again, the third time this year.

"I can't believe she did this to me, Sloane," Finn says.

I run my fingers through his hair, trying to ignore how good it feels.

"What exactly did she do?" I ask. "You still haven't told me."

"I don't know how to say it."

"Well, start from somewhere." 

My patience is wearing thin. I've been here for hours, sacrificing my Saturday to watch him disintegrate. 

I don't know why he bothers crying when he'll be back in her bed by next week anyway. They do this every damn time.

I should be more sympathetic, I know. But ten years of watching him chase after the same toxic woman tends to erode a person's sympathy. 

"Delilah's not coming back, Slaone," he says. "She left me for good this time."

"You know that's a lie."

"It's true. She's engaged. She sent me this digital wedding invitation, and I've been thinking about running my phone through a meat grinder."

That actually surprises me. Engaged? Delilah's getting married?

Finn pulls away from me, and I can finally see his face. 

The stubble on his jaw has grown past the sexy phase into something wilder. His white t-shirt is rumpled and stained with what might be yesterday's dinner. I've never seen him this wrecked, and that's saying something.

He fumbles for his phone, fingers trembling as he pulls up the screen.

Then he thrusts the phone at me. There it is-a nauseating rose-gold invitation with flowing script announcing the union of Delilah Crestfield and some guy named Hunter. Eight weeks from now.

My heart skips several beats, a fluttering sensation spreading through my chest. 

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. This is the best news I've heard in years. The witch is finally, actually, genuinely out of the picture.

"Poor baby," I say, trying to sound sympathetic. "Did you know she was dating someone else?"

"I mean, it's Delilah. When has she ever been faithful?"

"You've got a point." 

I hand him back his phone.

"I just can't believe she's leaving me, Sloane." He collapses back into the sofa, staring at the ceiling like it might offer some cosmic explanation.

"I find it hard to believe myself," I say.

My eyes trace his strong jaw, his lips, the eyelashes spiked with dried tears. I've memorized every inch of his face over the years, cataloged every expression. This one is new-complete and utter defeat.

It should make me sad to see him so broken, but all I can think is, 'This is my chance.' 

They've been lovers since high school, way before I came into Finn's life. Sometimes I wonder if that's the key to her hold on him-she knew him before I did, when he was just a boy with a fragile heart.

I've watched Delilah string him along, always knowing she'd come back for another round. The thought that she's finally cut him loose is both thrilling and terrifying. What happens to us now?

"Who am I without her, Sloane?" Finn asks.

"You're Finn Hartley. You'll be alright." I reach over to squeeze his knee.

"I can't be alright without Lila."

"There are over eight billion people in this world, statistically. Just pick someone new."