Chapter Friendships, Feelings, and Fucking Triggers
Friendships, Feelings, and Fucking Triggers
Charlie | The Past
In the past month, things with Alek have shifted. The physical spark has faded, but our friendship burns just as brightly as it did when we first met.
Friendships are delicate. I doubt Alek and I will need to cut ties, but I know some partners dislike their significant other staying close with an ex. If that day comes, I’ll either step back or do my best to welcome her, because Alek’s happiness means more to me than holding on too tightly.
It’s the least I owe him after the way he’s been there for me and helped me on my healing journey.
A sudden sting snaps me out of my thoughts, laughter from my two best friends swirling around me and scattering my worries.
“What the hell?” I mutter, glancing down at the Skittle that sits perfectly in the middle of my cleavage.
“Oh, hey. Let me grab that for you,” Alek teases, reaching down to pluck it out.
“Perv. You just wanted to cop a feel,” I sass.
“Obviously,” he smirks, tossing it into his mouth.
Amelia interrupts us. “You were lost in space, so I’m guessing you didn’t hear us.”
I grimace, leaning up off of Alek’s chest. “Sorry. What did I miss?”
“We were talking about going to the bar tonight,” she says. “Alek said David invited him and told him we'd better bring our asses with him.”
She rolls her eyes, but I see through it.
Amelia wants to see David as much as he wants her, no matter how her lip curls when she says his name.
She keeps their relationship private, but I know they’re sleeping together.
Sometimes, I catch a distant ache in her eyes that frustrates me with him, even if I don’t know all the reasons—except that he’s the cause of that pain.
I shrug. “Sure. It’s not like we were going to do anything tonight but watch movies and order in.”
Alek makes a noise that has me turning toward him. The way he’s rubbing the back of his neck and peering at me with a blank face tells me there’s something he’s debating on.
Sighing, I lean away and fold my arms across my chest. “Spit it out, Alek.”
He blows out a breath. “Fuck. Okay. So, Keaton is going to be there with his friend Brock. He’s going through shit too, and Keaton is trying to help him.”
In a surprising move, David and Keaton have been hanging out a bit. It’s not an everyday occurrence, but Alek says it’s a casual friendship.
I don’t resent it. Actually, I’m relieved Keaton finally has support.
Just because he hurt me doesn’t mean I want him isolated.
Maybe I should, maybe others would, but I can’t.
For a long time, I saw that as a weakness, but therapy taught me otherwise.
Choosing not to hate, not to wish him harm, or even to forgive, doesn’t diminish my strength.
Something I’ve learned and am continuing to learn throughout this is that everything that happens now is my choice.
Keaton took that from me when he disrespected me and my feelings regarding his friendship with Rianna, and he took it again when he fucked her.
From that moment, I became the one in control of where my life goes and how I choose to process and heal from it. No one else.
People struggle to show compassion when others don’t follow their script, forgetting that we all think, love, and live in our own ways. Different doesn’t mean wrong—it just means different.
So, no. I’m not upset that Keaton is finally making friends and that they’re people I associate with.
I tuck my bottom lip between my teeth and nibble on it, debating if I want to know more about him. Alek doesn’t hang out with him as much as David does, but he’s around when Keaton is. A few weeks ago, Alek asked if it bothered me. I said it didn’t, as long as he didn’t bring it up unless I asked.
This time I want to know something.
Alek reaches over and pulls my lip from between my teeth. “Spit it out, Lollie-girl.”
“Is it wrong that I want to see who he is now? I know seven months isn’t that long, but it might be enough for a change. Right?” I laugh, feeling self-conscious, and lean back into the couch. “God. That doesn’t sound pathetic, does it?”
“Charlie, you love the dude. Even though he made choices that led him to the biggest mistake of his life—”
I open my mouth to tell him that cheating isn’t a mistake, but he lifts a brow, warning me to be quiet and let him finish, so I snap my mouth shut.
“Cheating wasn’t the mistake, Charlie. It was his bad choice. Doing something to lose you was his biggest mistake.” Alek groans, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “Fuck, this isn’t coming out how I want it to.”
I laugh softly. “No, I think I get what you’re trying to say.”
He tucks a piece of my lilac hair behind my ear.
“What he did to you changed you, and anyone who knew you before can see it. But you never let it change this,” he says, putting his hand over my heart.
“The core of who you are is still the same. And inside, Lollie-girl, you’ll always love and care for that man.
There’s nothing wrong with hoping he’s changed or is working on it.
If he is, it means he learned something valuable from breaking you. ”
“I don’t know if I can handle seeing him around other women,” I admit.
“That’s nothing to be ashamed of, Char,” Amelia responds quietly.
“Him being around other women might be a trigger for you. Look, I don’t like the dick weasel, but I can say you’ve not been around him much since it happened.
So, you won't know how you’ll react until you do.
” She scowls, and her fierceness has me fighting a smile.
“Don’t take this as me advocating for that fuck head, because I’m not. I’m advocating for you, Char.”
God, I adore my best friend.
They’re right. My love for Keaton is permanent.
He’s been a part of me since I was a child.
I tried so hard to despise him after he cheated.
God, I wanted to hate him. The pain pulsed under my skin daily.
I wanted to rip it out just for relief. Just to have one fucking minute to breathe without his betrayal gnawing at me.
But with my therapist and these two incredible friends, the pain lessened.
Each morning, I breathed a bit easier. I woke up every day, and it wasn’t the first thing on my mind.
That’s not to say it went away or ever will.
It’s still there, sitting in the depths of my soul, a quiet and constant reminder that it’s the deepest love that can do the most harm.
His love left scores on my heart that I’ll carry with me until I’m no longer a part of this world.
They’re so deep that it wouldn’t surprise me if they followed me into whatever afterlife I face.
Do I see myself ever getting back together with Keaton? I wish I could answer myself definitively, but I really hate lying, even to myself. So, I won’t. But I can say I haven’t forgiven him. He’s not really done much to earn it.
At least, not yet.
Am I willing to give him a chance? I don’t know the answer to that either. But I’m tired of always being scared to be in his presence. I’m tired of constantly being on guard anytime someone mentions his name.
The truth is, I’m just bone-deep tired.
“I think,” I pause, blowing out a breath, “I think I’ll be okay going with you all. You’re right, Mel. I won't know anything unless I put myself in the same place as him in a similar environment to the night of the pool house.”
My stomach clenches at the mention of it. I’ve come a long way, but not far enough. Rebecca, as she’s told me, can only help get me so far. The rest is going to be up to me.
This is just the next step on my path to healing.
I wish telling myself that made it easier.
“It might end up being too much,” I warn them.
“And if it is, then you let us know and we leave,” Alek says. “You come first, Char.”
I slap my palms against my thighs and exhale hard. “Time to get dolled up. There’s no way I’m walking into this mess without my armor.”
Alek climbs to his feet and holds out his hand. “Then let’s get you dolled up.”
Sliding my hand into his, I let Alek pull me to my feet and follow him to my room, with Amelia trailing along behind us.
He leads me straight to my closet and swings open the door. “Mel, you’re on hair and makeup. I got the outfit, shoes, and everything underneath.”
I stand outside the door of my closet, twisting my hands together, as I watch Alek go through all the clothes hanging in it. He mutters to himself as he lifts dresses out, checking them over, glancing at me before shaking his head and hanging them back up.
My breath hitches when he pulls out a dress I’ve never dared to wear. It’s bolder than anything else I own, bought in the aftermath of catching Keaton and Rihanna together, but never brave enough to slip on—until now.
It’s full of black leather and lace, and so fucking short I doubt I’d be able to bend over or squat without flashing someone the goods.
The lace covers the slits that crisscross up the side of the dress, leaving very little to the imagination.
It also doesn’t leave room for any lines, which means if this is the one he picks, there's a good chance someone will see what the hell I have to offer. And it’s probably not going to be anyone I want to see.
But, oh man, can I just imagine Keaton’s reaction to me in it.
“Alek,” I warn weakly.
The smirk that glides over his face lets me know just how much trouble I’m in. “You already know, Lollie. Hell, my dick is getting hard just thinking about you being in it, so I know you’ll have that man dropping to his knees and begging to pray at your altar.”
I roll my eyes with a huff. “You’re ridiculous.”
He ignores me and pursues my heels, grabbing the one pair I cherish the most. I’ve only worn them once or twice because I’m terrified of wearing them out. The red sole pleads with me as they swing from his fingers.