Bestie

by Bella Jewel

  “I told her it’s done, and I hope she has a good life,” he says. “So fuck it. I’m over it.”

  No.

  No, he’s not.

  This will sink in. It will penetrate, and the tiny piece of hope she’s handed him will cling to his brain, and he’ll hang onto it. She knows it. She knows how he works, and she’s manipulating this to get what it is she wants. How dare she? What kind of awful, awful person does something so careless?

  He loves her.

  God, of course he does. He’s a good person.

  She knows he loves her.

  And she’s going to twist this until she destroys him.

  She will destroy him for her own personal gain.

  I fucking hate her.

  ~*~*~*~

  I open the door and see Roman standing, smiling at me.

  He’s smiling, but his eyes are sad again. I can see it, it’s like the first time I met him. Maybe not as deep, but that pain is there. God damn her to hell for doing this to him. Why the hell can’t she just let him move on with his life like he deserves? He’s such a good person, he deserves so much more than her.

  “Hey,” I smile, but I’m sure he can see my smile isn’t there either.

  It isn’t what it should be.

  “Hey.”

  He steps forward and catches me in his arms, pulling me close. He might love her—scratch that, he does love her—but I will always believe we were put together for a reason. I just haven’t figured out what that reason is. What we share, the bond we have, the connection, it’s real. It isn’t rebound, if it was, it would be all about sex. It’s not.

  It’s genuine.

  It’s pure.

  Roman was meant to be in my life, and I was meant to be in his—of that I’m sure.

  “How are you?” I say, looking up.

  “I’m good,” he smiles. “Coffee?”

  He’s lying.

  I can see it in his face.

  Those brown eyes will always tell the tales he thinks he keeps hidden.

  “Of course,” I say.

  I walk into the kitchen and try to make the conversation as easy as possible.

  “How was work?”

  “It was okay,” he says, sitting down on the kitchen stool and watching me.

  “You okay?”

  He nods.

  He’s not.

  Dammit.

  This is going to happen. I can feel it, right down to my core. It’s that feeling that washes over you, grabbing your heart with both hands, squeezing it tight, making you feel so sick you wonder if you’ll even be able to stand. It’s the feeling you get when you know something is about to tear you in two.

  “You’re not,” I say softly, and my heart is already pounding. “It’s because she’s away with that other guy, isn’t it?”

  He flinches. Dammit. Damn her.

  “It’s a bit fucked.”

  My heart does go out to him. To me, all this is so clear, but when you’re in love, when you’re giving your heart to someone, sometimes you just can’t see all the awful things they’re doing. Roman is hanging onto threads of a relationship he cherished, but she severed the cord months ago. Now she’s playing him.

  I hope Karma eats her alive.

  “I’m sorry, Roman,” I say, and I mean it.

  I am sorry for him.

  I hate her for what she’s doing, but mostly I hate that he’s in so much pain and can’t find any relief from it. There is no worse feeling in the world than wanting something to just stop, getting a little hope that it’s going to, and then having it come crashing back down just when you think you’re moving forward.

  “I think right now we should definitely stop sleeping together,” I say, and I know in that moment, it’s the right thing.

  He’s not ready. I knew he wasn’t ready. I know, for a while, when she backed off and he started to feel good again, that he thought he was ready and everything he said was real. I believe that because Roman is a good guy, but I knew he wasn’t at the right stage. I was the one in this situation without intense emotion, I should have pulled back and given him time.

  “Yeah,” he agrees. “I think so.”

  I flinch.

  I didn’t think those words would hurt as much as they do.

  He looks up at me, and God, I just want to hang onto him and tell him it’ll be okay. But I can’t. He has to learn this one. And I think he’s going to have to learn it the hard way. I hate that for him. He doesn’t deserve it. Nobody does, but Roman is the best kind, and he shouldn’t have to feel this kind of pain. I wish I could make it go away for him.

  “I still love her,” he says, his voice thick. “I was over it but ...”

  “You weren’t over it-” I interrupt.

  He jerks back, looking a little pissed. “I was over it.”

  “Roman, you weren’t over it. You thought you were over it. You believed you were over it. But if you were over it, you wouldn’t just fall back in love with her.”

  My hands start shaking. Dammit. Don’t cry, Molly. Do not cry. His words repeat over and over in my head. I still love her. I still love her. I still love her.

  I knew that.

  So why the hell does it hurt so much?

  His eyes roam over my face and I know he’s hurting about doing this to me. I know he is, but that isn’t enough to stop him from doing it. “I meant it when I said I have feelings for you, I do, but ... I can’t help how I feel about this.”

  My legs shake now. They feel like they’re going to turn to jelly and cause me to collapse onto the ground.

  “I’m not trying to hurt you,” he says, and I know he means it.

  I know he does.

  This one is on me. I knew. I knew, and I let it continue instead of just being his friend and giving him space. Once again I let my stupid heart take over and in doing that, I stopped thinking rationally and with a clear head.

  “We were having fun,” he says. “We were getting closer. I wanted that. It’s just too soon.”

  “Yeah,” I whisper.

  “Look at me, Molly.”

  I can’t look at him.

  If I look at him, I’ll break.

  I’ll break, and that is going to do nothing. All that will do is make it worse. This isn’t his fault—he’s always been honest with me, he never promised anything more than he could give. I accepted it for what it was, knowing he wasn’t ready. Dammit. Why didn’t I just keep it as friends for a little longer, until he went through all this?

  Then this might not be happening.

  And fuck, it wouldn’t hurt so much.

  “She’s away with another man,” I whisper. “She treated you like dirt. She was the worst human being I’ve ever known. How can you still love her? How can you even consider taking her back?”

  He shifts. “I know all this.”

  But he’s going to fight again anyway. He’s going to, because that’s the kind of incredible human being he is.

  It’s also going to be what destroys him.

  “But it doesn’t matter,” I say to my hands.

  “Please look at me.”

  I can’t.

  I won’t.

  “Molly ...”

  I don’t move.

  “I should go,” he says, his voice hurt. He stands, and I can feel his eyes burning into me. “I don’t want to hurt you, I’m so sorry if I did.”

  I nod, keeping my eyes turned down to the ground.

  “Can I have a hug? Please?”

  No.

  Because if I hug him, if I take a step towards him and put my arms around him, I’ll break. If I break, I’m not entirely sure I’ll have the strength to pick myself back up again. He has helped me so much, he has been my rock, my best fucking friend, my everything. Now, I might just lose him. I might lose the best person I’ve ever met, and I don’t know how the hell I’m supposed to cope with that.

  So, I keep my hands by my sides.

  I keep my face turned down.

/>   I fight the tears threatening to explode.

  “I’m sorry. I honestly never meant to hurt you. Fuck. I’m so sorry,” he says, and the he quietly leaves my house.

  I sink to my knees the second his truck disappears down the road.

  And I cry.

  I just cry.

  Damn her.

  Damn her to hell.

  CHAPTER 18

  “Hey, come on,” Matilda says, wrapping her arms around me. “It’ll be okay.”

  “I feel like I’ve lost my best friend, Milly,” I whisper against her shoulder. “I honestly feel so completely broken.”

  She sighs and her breath puffs out against my cheek. “This is why I told you to be careful, honey. I know what you two have is special, I believe it because I can see it. I can see it when you two are together. It’s obvious he truly does care about you, but he needs to move past all this. He needs to heal.”

  “I know,” I croak. “I knew this, but I still slept with him anyway. I let myself get close. If I didn’t do that, I could have held back, I could have controlled my feelings. The second I let it get to that point, it all changed. I’m a soft person, I might have a high sex drive, but I’m not a slut. I’m selective who I sleep with, because I know I care too easily. I knew myself, I knew I’d bond with him, but I did it anyway.”

  “This isn’t your fault, but it isn’t his, either. You guys were in a really hard place, and you clung to each other. Most people rebound with a one-night stand, but you two, you had something special, a friendship I honestly haven’t seen in a long time. You should have kept it at that until he’d moved on, but you didn’t. It’s a lesson learned. It’ll hurt for a while, but you will be okay.”

  “What if he goes back to her?” I say, turning to her, eyes filled with tears. “Matilda, what if I lose him?”

  She takes my hand. “Do you honestly think she’ll actually take him back? And even if she does, she’s going to destroy him once more. That woman does not love him, but that’s something he has to figure out for himself. You cannot fight this battle for him. You can’t, honey.”

  “I don’t want him hurting,” I whisper, a tear running down my cheek. “I don’t want him hurting!”

  Frustration and pain bubbles in my chest, and I can’t seem to make sense of either.

  She shakes her head and squeezes my hand again. “Again, you can’t fight this one. Sweetie, you can’t. I know you want to protect him. But he has to figure this out. The only thing you can do right now is either accept that he needs you as a friend only, or give yourself space until he’s dealt with it.”

  “I can’t imagine going a day without talking to him, he’s my best friend, he’s important to me.”

  “Yes, he is, but you have feelings for him now. If, for some small chance, he does go back to her for a while, do you honestly think you can handle that?”

  My heart twists angrily at that thought.

  I close my eyes, take a shaky breath and think about it.

  It would kill me, absolutely rip me in two, to see him go back to her. The very thought hurts my heart more than I can even imagine. There is nothing worse in the world than thinking of someone you care about with someone else.

  But what would hurt even more, is losing the best person I’ve ever known. What would hurt, so much more, is giving up on someone who has been there for me, who has taught me so much about myself in such a short time, who is the kindest, most generous person I’ve ever met. Losing him, that would hurt far more.

  “It would kill me,” I admit. “But losing him ... That’ll kill me more.”

  She nods, because she knew that’s what I would say. “Then you take your time, you calm down from this, and you tell him that. If he does go back, you will need some space, that’s just not able to be avoided—it will hurt more than you think it will. If he doesn’t, you support him as a friend through it. That’s all you can do for right now.”

  “I hate her,” I mutter angrily. “I really, really hate her. I wish I could walk up to her and tell her exactly what I think of her, but I can’t. I just have to sit back and watch her chip away at him, slowly eating at him piece by piece, until there is nothing left.”

  “I hate her too, and I don’t even know the half of it,” Matilda agrees. “People like her, she’ll only win for a while. She will hurt him again, but the funny thing about people, is they bounce back. It’ll suck for him, it’s going to possibly be the hardest thing he’ll do, but he will come back stronger, and he will come back a fighter. But until that happens, you just have to hang on, just keep hanging on, honey.”

  “What we have, it’s worth it,” I whisper, another tear rolling down my cheek.

  “It’s so worth it.”

  I can do this.

  I can.

  I have to.

  He needs me.

  CHAPTER 19

  “I’m sorry,” I say, standing on his doorstep, staring into those brown eyes that are full of pain again.

  It’s been a few days; I let him have the space he needed, and now I need him to know that I’m here. I’ve pulled myself together as much as I can, I’ve shut down my emotions as much as I can for now, and I just need to be there for him and he needs to know it.

  “Hey,” he says, stepping aside and letting me in.

  I tilt my head back and stare up at him, studying his face. He looks tired. I hate that. “I didn’t mean to make you out to be an asshole over your feelings, Roman. I know you can’t help it. I can be your friend, for right now. I can do what you need me to do, but please understand, if you go back there, I will need to take a step back. It isn’t because I don’t want to help you, I do, but if you go back then I’m no longer your person, she’s your person again, and because of that, I’ll need to move on with my life.”

  He stares at me, and nods. He looks hurt. I hate that.

  “But, if you don’t go back, or you do and she hurts you again ...” Which she will. “Then I’ll be here. I’ll always be here. I will do what I can, I’ll help you through, I’ll be just your friend if that’s what you need, but please, please respect that I do have to protect my heart a little too. That’s all I can offer you right now.”

  “I understand, and I really am sorry for hurting you. That was never my intention. I feel like a fucking asshole.”

  “It’s not your fault,” I say, smiling, even though I’m sure he can see it’s broken. “You can’t help how you feel. I know that now better than anyone. You were honest with me, you always told me the truth, I just didn’t want to hear it. We both rushed when the truth was too soon for both of us.”

  “Yeah, it was. But you do matter to me, I love having you around, and I don’t want to lose you. I just have to figure this one out. I have to work through this. I just need you on my side, without judgement.”

  My heart clenches, but I nod. “I understand, and I’m sorry.”

  “You want a coffee? I’ve missed you, Bestie.”

  I smile, and this time it does shake. “Yeah, I do.”

  He makes us a coffee and we sit outside at his table. I study him, and internally, my heart is shredding into a thousand pieces. He looks terrible. He was feeling better for a while, he was smiling, he was laughing, he was easing up and looking like he might finally get through, and now he looks like he’s right back to square one. His eyes are dull, he’s not laughing like he usually does.

  How could she do this to him?

  Honestly, how the hell can she do this?

  That’s right, because she only cares about herself.

  “You don’t look so crash hot, spunky, you okay?” I ask, sipping the coffee.

  He shrugs. “Not really, hey. I was feeling good about moving on, things were good, and now I feel like I’m right back to square one again.”

  “You’re feeling the same hurt?”

  He nods.

  Fuck. Her.

  “Have you spoken to her?”

  He nods. “Yeah, I’ve spoken to her. She said
she needs a few weeks and then we’ll talk about it.”

  Bitch.

  Stupid. Stupid. Bitch.

  She is hanging him on that rope again. Making him wait a few weeks, making him hold out, not knowing, not understanding, wondering what she’s going to say. That must be pure hell for him. It shouldn’t be this hard. You either want someone, or you don’t. You either love them, or you don’t. A few weeks isn’t going to change that.

  She’s stalling, because she knows, this time around, when she finally tells him she doesn’t want him, and she will, because she’s a shit person, then she’ll lose him. She knows, deep down in her heart, that it’ll be the final moment for them, that he’ll stop giving to her, that he’ll move on, that he’ll stop being the one person in the world that gives a shit about her.

  And her selfish ass doesn’t want to lose that just yet.

  She likes the attention.

  She likes what he’s giving her.

  She also knows she’s not willing to give any of that back.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “That sucks. Has she said if she wants to get back together?”

  He shrugs. “I honestly don’t know what she wants. I don’t know what’s going on. She’s away with that other fucker at the moment.”

  God. Damn. Her.

  I can’t even imagine how that must feel.

  Does she stop, at all, and think about her actions? Even a little fucking bit?

  “I’m sorry, that’s awful.”

  He shrugs. “Yeah, it’s all good. How are you?”

  He’s changing the subject, and I understand why. He isn’t a big talker about his emotions, as most men aren’t. I don’t push. There’s no point. We’ll just end up in a massive argument, and neither of us need that.

  “I’m okay, getting there. We should do something. You want to go for a drive? Drink excessive amounts of beer? Shoot something?”

  He smiles, and it makes me feel better to know I’ve gotten at least one out of him. “Yeah. I do. Gotta take my mind off this.”