What Hurts the Most

The sound of Rascal Flats filled the house.

Dean sat in the living room in the dark. He was on the uncomfortable couch drinking a beer and wallowing in misery to What Hurts the Most. Yesterday, his life was amazing. The world was his. He would marry the most beautiful girl in the world. His family loved and took her places she'd never been. Beautiful, lush places, not the sandy shit pits she had been. He would take her anywhere she wanted to go. All she had to do was ask. He would have taken her to the moon. All she had to do was ask.

"Maybe I should have quit my job," he said to himself, "that way I could stay here. I could easily have afforded to. Well, if I quit, our relationship will still suffer because my ass will be in Leavenworth."

He tried to convince himself he had made the right decision. He'd been asked to aid in taking a drug Lord off the streets. It's important. The good of the many outweighs the good of the few.

(Doesn't that sound familiar, does it?) Insert laugh track here.

He sucked down the rest of the beer and put the empty bottle on the coffee table. He grabbed a full one and twisted it open. He rested his head on the back of the couch and stared at the ceiling. He felt a tear roll out the side of his eye, down his cheek, and rest on his ear. He took a long drag on his beer.

"Fuck my life. Actually, my life is already fucked, so that's actually been taken care of."

When he heard the garage door open, he knew Natalie was home. He didn't want to talk to her about this but needed her right now. She put her keys in the key bowl and entered the kitchen, making her way through the dark living room.

She heard the music playing.

"Hey, Bug," he said.

"Holy mother fucking bitch! Dean! You scared the crap out of me!" she yelped. "Why are you sitting alone in the dark listening to one of the world's saddest songs?"

She went and turned the lamp on. He squinted as the light hit his eyes. She looked over at him. Empty beer bottles surrounded him. Two full ones were sitting on the couch next to him.

"Bean, what is going on? You look like shit. Did your horse die?" she asked.

She took one of the beers and put the other on the table. "Did you drink these all on your own?"

She took a seat next to him, folding her legs underneath her. She took a long swallow of her beer.

"Yeah. I also finished off my bottle of Remy Martin Cognac Louis XIII."

"Pop Pop gave you that. It's a special occasion bottle. You never just drink it. And this doesn't strike me as a special occasion," she said, looking around.

He reached out and put something in her hand.

"Gram's ring? Why do you have Gram's ring? What the hell is going on?"

"I told her about my assignment; she said she couldn't handle it. She said she loves me but won't be able to cope with not knowing, with the loneliness of sitting and waiting for me to return."

"I don't understand why she would do this. WAIT! You just told her? Today!" she exclaimed.

"Well, technically, it was last night.," he said, looking at his phone.

"Well, no wonder she completely wigged out. You told her three days; you gave her three days to process the fact that you might be gone for years."

"I really don't think it's going to take years."

"Bean, don't be an idiot. To her, three months will feel like a year, six months will feel like two years, and a year will feel like a lifetime. You are one of the only consistent things she has in life." she said. "That wasn't right, that was a total ambush, and you know of all people you shouldn't ambush, it's her."

"I know that now," he said.

She could definitely tell he was hammered.

"I couldn't tell you the last time I saw you this drunk. I think it was when your horse did die."

"I really loved Biscuit. I was just too scared to tell her."

"You weren't too scared to tell her. You were too selfish to tell her."

Maybe if I told her right away, we could have discussed it more and found some common ground. Worked something out. God, I love her."

"Personally, I think that would have been a smart idea. But obviously, you are not smart."

He drained the beer. He went to grab the last one.

"Whoa! Hold up there, Cowboy! I think maybe you've had enough."

"Cowboy? Allie calls me Cowboy," he started crying again.

Oh shit. Wrong choice of words, moron, Natalie thought.

"So, what now?" she asked.

He sniffed heavily and wiped his eyes with his sleeve. "I pack my bags, and you give me a ride to the airport and head off to California."

"Fuck Bean. This is so screwed up. Do you think there's any chance she would want to reconcile when you come back?" she asked. "Did you ask her?"

"Bug, it could be a long-drawn-out process, and the more I think about it, I could never ask her to wait."

"Well, special agent Big Brother is an outstanding agent no matter what you're going to be doing. I know you will succeed."

"Maybe I should just keep praying."

"Well, there's no fault in asking for a little help," she said.

"I feel like I am going to die. My heart literally feels like it is breaking."

Natalie rose to her knees and held as much of her big brother as her little arms could gather. He leaned his head onto her shoulder and began to sob. Natalie rested her chin on the top of his head.

"Remember, your current situation is not your final destination. Time really does heal. I remember when I broke my back, I was convinced I would never get back on my feet. Do you remember what you told me?"

"That you really suck at poker," he quipped.

They both laughed.

"No smart ass. You told me that if you aren't mentally positive, then it would take forever to heal. So, you were there to help me every day. I know I can't be there, but you need to take your advice. You need to listen to my brilliant yet really dumb big brother. You are the greatest and the most levelheaded person I know. Please don't give up on you and Allie until you know that it's definitely over. She may feel the same way. She doesn't realize it because her emotions are so raw."

"Bug, I am so scared you have no idea how she was before I met her."

"Umm, yes, I do. My Special Kay is her best friend. We have pillow talk. When it comes to her, I may know more about her than you do." She said, "Hey, have you ever thought of resigning? You have more than enough money in the bank."

"Yeah, I have, but I can't do that. I committed when I took the job. I promised Mom and Dad to keep my feet on the ground and always work. I love my job. I love the normality of it, my friends, the feeling of making a difference, and I don't want to give up donating my income, and if I do right now, I will be federally prosecuted because the God damn VP is involved."

"OK, I get it. I love my job, too, and I am proud of my achievements. I also like knowing my income makes a difference, but this is Allie. This is your forever. You can always go work for Mom and Dad."

"Oh man, what am I going to tell Mom and Dad? They will be so angry that I waited so long to tell her."

"Well, buckle up and wear a cup. It's going to be a bumpy ride,"