CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
ROWAN
Alejo arrived a half hour late to the bar. He had never been the most punctual guy, but a half hour late was beyond even his standard. When he sat down next to me at the bar, he looked like he'd been run over by a truck. I half-wondered if he was already drunk.
"You okay, man?" I asked.
Alejo grunted a non-answer. He ordered a beer and then proceeded to stare at his hands morosely.
Considering Alejo had been the one to text me to get drinks, I was tempted to tell him we should reschedule. But when his shoulders slumped and he sighed like a heartsick middle schooler, I knew I couldn't bail. No matter how uncomfortable it all made me.
"I think we're calling off the wedding," Alejo said.
Out of all the things I expected my friend to say, it wasn't that. "Seriousl
