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Diane recoils, her eyes widening. I’ve never raised my voice to her before. Shame washes over me again as tears fill her eyes.
“Diane, I’m sorry,” I say softly. “But you have to understand, this relationship’s important to me. Tanya makes me happy. All I want is for us to accept each other, for you to give her a chance. Can you do that for me?”
“You’re choosing her, then.” Diane swipes at her cheeks, her lips pressed into a thin line. “I see how it is.”
“No, that’s not how it is at all!” I move toward her, but she steps back, shaking her head. “Diane, please. I’m not choosing anyone over you. I want you both in my life.”
“You can’t have us both.” Diane glares at me. Her eyes are red and frantic but her voice is steady. “If you won’t end it with her, then don’t bother speaking to me again.”
She turns and strides away before I can say another word. I’m left standing in the middle of the hallway, my heart in pieces, wondering how everything fell apart so quickly. How did I end up here?
I sink into the couch, my head in my hands. How did it come to this? All I wanted was to find happiness again after losing Diane’s mother, and now I’ve gone and destroyed my relationship with my only child in the process. The thought of cutting Tanya out of my life fills me with anguish. She’s brought me joy and passion I never thought I’d experience again. Yet, the thought of losing Diane is even more painful. She’s all I have left of her mother—the one part of my old life that remained untouched by grief.
Now I have to choose. And either way, I lose. My phone buzzes in my pocket, startling me out of my brooding. I pull it out to find a text from Tanya.
Hey Brian, just checking in. How are things? Has Diane calmed down? Can we meet?
The sight of her name on the screen fills me with warmth and longing. I want to type a response. I want to meet her. But I can’t. Instead, I put my phone down.
How can I meet with Tanya now, after what just happened with Diane? But the idea of disappointing Tanya, of telling her I can’t see her, fills me with guilt. I can’t hurt her like that, not when she’s done nothing wrong. She has no idea the mess I’ve found myself in, torn between my love for my daughter and longing for the woman who brings me hope.
With a heavy sigh, I rise from the couch and go to get ready for bed. The phone rings while I brush my teeth. Tanya. I can’t help but put the phone on silent. What can I even say to her? I can’t talk to Tanya tonight. And if Diane means what she says, then I may not be able to speak to Tanya ever again.
Chapter twenty-one
The Last Straw
Tanya
The ache in my chest feels like a black hole, sucking all the light and joy out of my world. I clutch my phone, staring at the string of unanswered texts and voicemails I’ve sent to Diane. I know I messed up, but I thought our friendship meant more than this. If only she would give me a chance to explain. With a sigh, I scroll through Diane’s social media profiles again, searching for any clue. But there’s nothing. Radio silence. My fingers hover over the phone screen as tears blur my vision. Should I call her again? Beg for her to hear me out? Force her to understand why I did what I did? Demand to know what’s going through her head? No. I can’t lose my dignity like that.
Anger and sorrow war inside me, twisting into a molten knot in my gut. We’ve been friends since forever. It was always Diane and me against the world. How could she just cut me out because I made one mistake? Needless to say, a huge one. But still. The ache in my chest sharpens into a knife’s edge. I curl into a ball on the bed, choking back sobs. Our friendship can’t end like this. I won’t allow it. I have to see Diane face to face. It’s the only way to save our friendship and stitch the ragged hole in my heart. Tomorrow I’ll go over to her house, and this time I won’t leave until she talks to me. I can’t lose my best friend. I just can’t.
Now that my mind’s made up on the next steps of action, I call Brian. Maybe, if he and Diane have spoken, he can help me understand. He doesn’t pick up. Instead, I receive a text. In a meeting. Call you later? I sigh and put my phone aside. As if the situation with Diane isn’t bad enough, why do I feel like Brian, too, is acting strange and distant? I wonder if both father and daughter have turned against me.
Maybe I’m just overthinking things. Brian’s a busy billionaire executive. I’m sure he simply has a torrential downpour of work or something.
The next day, I drive over to Diane and Brian’s house. My hands clench the steering wheel as I drive. What will I say to her? How can I get her to listen? What if Brian’s there too? As I reach the driveway, I begin to get second thoughts. I haven’t thought this through. What am I doing?
I want to turn back, but it’s too late now. I’ve come all this way; I may as well try. Also, even if Diane isn’t there, not all would be lost. I could perhaps just check in with Brian and find out where we stand. I park in the driveway and march up to the front door, lifting my hand to knock—only to hesitate. What if she refuses to see me? Tells me to go away? The thought makes my stomach churn.
No. I have to try. Our friendship is worth fighting for, and I do owe her an apology. I knock sharply on the door. No answer. I knock again, louder this time. “Diane? It’s Tanya. Please open the door—we need to talk.”
Silence. She’s avoiding me. Anger and hurt rise in my chest, and I pound on the door. “Diane Russo, don’t you dare ignore me! We’ve been friends too long to throw it all away without a word. Open this door right now!”
The door flies open—but it’s not Diane standing there. It’s the housekeeper. Her expression is both annoyed and sympathetic. “Tanya, Diane isn’t here.”
“What? Where did she go?” I peer past her into the house as if Diane might magically appear. “Did she say when she’d be back?”
“I’m afraid she didn’t tell us her plans,” she sighs. “Look, Tanya…she asked me to tell you that she needs some space right now. I’m sorry, I know how close you two are. Maybe it would be best to give her some time before trying to contact her again.”
Her words hit me like a blow. Diane really intends to cut me out of her life. Numbness spreads through me, and I stumble back from the door.
“I’m sorry,” she says again. The door closes softly, leaving me alone on the front step.
Diane’s gone. Our friendship’s over. The pain and loss overwhelm me, and I break down in tears.
I sit in my car outside the Russo house, watching for any sign of movement behind the windows. Nothing. According to the housekeeper, Diane isn’t even here.
