Drive

Her hands are wrapped around the steering wheel, and she looks into the darkened night sky as she drives. Alcohol courses through his veins and his eyes focus on her – her model face, her messy hair, the way that she keeps chewing on her lower lip. Jack knows that it's wrong and that he shouldn't look at his best friend's fiancé like she hung the moon, but she did – to him anyway.

Lisa's silent. She knows about Jack's feelings, has known since last year's Christmas party when he soberly kissed her in the breakfast nook while they were playing Scrabble together. It makes sense, really. They've built their lives around each other in a similar way that Lisa's built her life around Alex. In fact, Lisa met Jack first. The two have been friends since elementary school. So, Lisa gets it, gets why Jack is in love with her, gets how she secretly feels the same.

His coarse hand rubs circles on his thigh, and he presses his opposite thumb to his temple, thinking about how ridiculous he is. Lisa loves Alex. Lisa has always loved Alex. He continues to watch her, though, despite the suffering that it causes him, speechless at how beautiful she is.

"I'm sorry," Lisa says randomly. Jack doesn't bat an eye.

"Sorry for what?"

They've paused at a red light, and she turns to face him for the first time since they got in her car, looking at him intently, and Jack understands. He understood before he even asked the question.

Lisa loves him back, but at the end of the day, it's always going to be Alex.

The light turns green. Jack shifts his gaze to the passenger window and Lisa shifts hers back to the road. They can't see each other. If they could, they'd see mirror images of themselves – canvasses of pain, loss, and disappointment.

Lisa just drives, and Jack just sighs.

This is the way that it has to be.