8 #3
I wiped at my face with the heel of my hand, smearing mascara across my skin. “I was fine with waiting him out because I told myself the suffering was mine to carry. I texted him multiple times asking for forgiveness and asking to talk. I got one reply, and the rest were left on read.”
Anger tore through me again.
“That motherfucker didn’t want it, so he sure as fuck doesn’t get it now. I told myself I broke him first, so maybe I had to stand there and let him break something back.”
My chest heaved.
“But I am done being the ball he kicks every time he has a feeling.”
Charm moved toward me. “Ay.”
I stepped back so fast my hip struck the dresser. “Do not Ay me right now.”
She stopped.
My chest hurt.
My entire body hurt.
“I wish my best friends, the two people who know exactly why I am the way I am, had the decency to defend me with the same loyalty his boys defend him.” My voice shook, but I kept going because this was the only way I knew how to make them feel the bruise they had put on me first.
“Not the semi-pro Frost player you want to fuck, Charm. Not your fucking fiancé, Bliss. Me. Your girl.”
Charm’s face went white, and Bliss looked like I had slapped her.
I looked at Bliss. “I had your back no matter what when you were coming to terms with how you felt about Cade. I knew you were in love and fighting it tooth and nail, and I let you work your shit out.”
Then I turned on Charm, who lifted one hand like she already knew where I was going and wanted to stop me before I landed the blow.
Her voice came out thin. “Ryan has nothing to do with this.”
“Doesn’t he?” I laughed through the tears still running hot down my face. “You think I don’t see you pulling your punches because part of you wants to protect whichever side of the room he’s standing on?”
Charm’s mouth tightened.
“You think I don’t see you pretending he’s only fun while looking at him like he’s the worst idea you have ever wanted to make?”
Her mouth snapped shut.
“I am not judging you for wanting him,” I said. “I’m telling you not to stand in front of me and pretend you don’t understand what it looks like when a woman tries to keep a man in the category where he can’t hurt her.”
Charm didn’t answer.
I looked at Bliss next, and that hurt worse. “And you. I love you more than my own pride, B, but do not ask me to carry your peace too. Do not ask me to make this easier because the divide makes your life complicated.”
Her tears kept coming.
“I had your back when your whole world was a mess. I never once demanded that your trauma stay silent so everyone else could sit around the same table without choking.”
Bliss’s face folded. “I know.”
“Then give me the same loyalty.”
The room went quiet except for my wrecked breathing and Bliss crying into her sleeve. Charm stood near the foot of my bed with her arms wrapped around herself, all that polish cracked enough for the scared girl underneath to show.
For one second, I hated that I had hurt them.
Then I hated that hating it made me want to apologize before I was done being angry.
I turned back toward the bag and shoved my charger into the side pocket.
Bliss came closer, careful now. “Please don’t leave like this.”
“I’m not leaving forever.” I zipped the bag with trembling hands and slung the strap over my shoulder.
Charm’s eyes filled again. “We are sorry.”
“I believe you.”
“Then stay.”
“I believe you’re sorry,” I said, looking between them. “I don’t believe either of you understands yet that sorry doesn’t fix the fact that tonight, when the room got ugly, I looked around for my girls and felt alone.”
Bliss made a broken sound.
I softened for half a second because I loved her. I loved them both so much it was disgusting, inconvenient, and currently ruining the clean exit I was trying very hard to make.
But love did not mean remaining in a room where I had to beg to be defended.
“I’m going to my parents’,” I said. “I’ll text when I get there. Do not call my mother if I don’t answer. Do not send anyone after me, especially one of the boys, unless you want me to commit a felony with witnesses.”
Charm let out the smallest, wettest laugh, and it died almost immediately.
Bliss stepped aside when I reached the doorway, but she caught my wrist before I could pass. Her fingers were gentle, which somehow made it worse.
“You are not alone,” she whispered.
I looked down at her hand on me, then raised my eyes to her face.
“I was tonight.”
She let go like the words burned.
I walked out before I could turn around and comfort her for hurting me.
Before Charm could say my name again. Before the apartment pulled me back with every memory of us on that couch, on that floor, and in that kitchen, laughing like the world could never get its hands on us if we stayed close enough.
The door closed behind me with a soft click that sounded nothing like the size of what had just happened.
Outside, the hallway smelled like old carpet and winter-wet coats, and my overnight bag bumped against my hip as I walked toward the stairs with tears still on my face and my phone already buzzing inside my pocket.
I did not look at it.
For once, I let them wait.