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She laughed. “What doesn’t that boy need to tell you. He’s not safe Nova.”
I lowered my arm and returned the necklace to the safety of my pocket. “That’s a rather abrupt change of attitude considering I only went to his party not too long ago because you begged me to.”
“What is with you right now? Did you come over here to argue? I don’t have time for this. I told you there was somewhere I needed to be today.” She huffed an exaggerated breath, and then had the audacity to roll her eyes at me.
Did she think I was stupid? That it wasn’t obvious she kept deflecting?
I swallowed my anger but refused to soothe it. Feeling it settled deep in my gut, cracking my chest that much more, mixing with the sleuth of emotions threatening to consume me.
I knew Annika. I knew Emery. And as much as didn’t want to believe or accept it, I was beginning to see this wasn’t about Rhett. Like I’d thought earlier, he didn’t fit in any of the scenarios inside my head. Not to mention, neither of them would have kept Nika sleeping with him a secret. They’d have told me right away so that I didn’t.
I wasn’t sure what role he played in any of this yet. After all, he was the one who had my necklace hidden in his bedroom, but that and this were two different situations. One took major precedence over the other.
I cleared my throat and put on my game face. “How long are you going to drag out this lie, Nika?”
She turned her head, swallowing audibly, looking guiltier by the second. Was it a coincidence that she just ‘assumed’ my father had the pendant? I think the fuck not.
I was positive something happened between the two of them, her and Dad, but I wanted her to admit it out loud. The only way she would have known he had my necklace was if she saw him with it, which would mean she was around him two days before he died. Or, he randomly divulged that information over a phone call, which meant he had her number. I wasn’t okay with either scenario. I stared her down, waiting for her to speak up. She shifted again, diverting her gaze to the vinyl floor.
“Nika…”
I didn’t need to say anything else. When she looked at me again, her expression was one of regret and pain. I couldn’t find an ounce of sympathy for her. Too many things began to click together.
Memories I’d done my best to bury started to assault me, creating a throbbing sensation in the back of my skull. My brain went into overdrive as it recalled how she subtly flirted with him. I always laughed it off, thinking of it as a petty crush.
All the late-night arguments ending with my mother crying. They were always about him and some other woman. That was the norm, but the last ones were the worst. Especially the one before the night they never came home. The calm before the
storm. It’d been about someone half his age. I could almost hear mom screaming that at him. I’d learned to never ask, and she didn’t give anything away. She’d always tried to pretend like they were fine for my sake as well as her own.
“I’ve wanted to tell you for so long now, but I didn’t know how or what you’d think of me.” She spoke softly, practically whispering.
I sighed, surprising myself with how calm I sounded when I replied, “Was it you? The one he was texting that night?”
“Maybe,” she murmured.
That was a yes, then.
I crossed my arms to hide my clenched fist, digging my nails into my palms. There weren’t words that could fix this. Never in a million years would I have linked one of my closest friends to my father. I could only imagine the kind of conversations they’d been having in private. The things they would have done with each other.
It sickened me. It made me wish she had slept with Rhett. That would’ve been something I eventually accepted. But this? I’d never have been okay with it—would never be okay with it.
“Don’t be mad at Emery, okay?”
“Why would I be mad at her? She wasn’t the one who fucked my dad.”
“Nova,” her voice cracked, and she took a step towards me, “I am so--.”
“Can I have a minute,” I glanced away, unable to look at her face. Her tears disgusted me, and I couldn’t handle hearing some weak ass apology.
“I’ll be upstairs,” she replied. Not a second later I heard her scampering out of the kitchen, and then up the steps like a frightened mouse.
Silence filled the space she’d just occupied, and I welcomed it. I stared at the spot she had just been standing, the paranoia I’d had now solid and valid. I could hardly think straight anymore, everything was spiraling out of control. My life was falling apart piece by piece. The bottom of my rabbit hole seemed as if it were seconds away from smacking me in the face.
‘Angry’ was a pitiful adjective for the volcano erupting in my chest.
Heated fury rose, crawling through my veins and taking over my body. Wetness coated my lashes, but I couldn’t cry. Not yet. And certainly not here. I went to the other side of the kitchen, retrieving the bottle of wine I knew would be in her fridge. I hated the taste of it, but it’d suffice right now.
After grabbing two goblets from the cabinet, I retrieved the nearly full pill bottle I’d taken off Mom’s nightstand. I twisted the cap off and dumped all but three onto the counter. Grabbing a spoon from the drawer, I crushed them down to specs of dust, and then carefully swiped them into one of the goblets, adding the red over it. After a few stirs, you couldn’t tell they were there.
