BLAKE
What a way to kick a man when he’s down.
My best friend and my faux wife making out in my kitchen while my business crumbles around me.
The ink of the paper of our marriage certificate has barely dried, and Danielle and Issac are like love-struck teenagers.
Even from my office, I can hear them talking.
I want to hear every fucking word, but my jealousy has no place here.
Danielle is doing this for me.
“Fuck.”
I need to apologize, but I’m scared of walking in to find Issac between Danielle’s thighs, or worse still, her on her knees.
Jesus.
Forcing myself to drain a beer first, I focus on the family portrait on the wall. Dad seems to be glaring at me, his eyes screaming at me to behave appropriately.
“It's not my fault that she prefers Issac,” I mutter. “It’s your fault I’m even doing this.”
Laughter rings through the house, and it's strange. It’s genuine, and it's coming from Danielle.
Closing my eyes, I rise to my feet, crossing over to the door.
I spot Danielle and Issac crossing to the front door, his hand on the small of her back as she turns to say goodbye.
I’m frozen to the spot, my jaw clenching so hard that pain slices through my face.
Issac gazes at Danielle, his hand sliding around her waist as he dips his head to her lips, her hair tumbling down her back as she leans up to kiss him back.
I want to interrupt them, but I also want to see how far this goes.
Is he going home?
Or is Danielle going to let him take her against the front door?
My stomach hardens, and I wait with bated breath.
Danielle pulls away first, and a smug grin takes over my face, the pain easing in my cheeks when Issac sighs.
“It doesn’t have to be just sex, you know.” Issac smirks, cupping her face in his hand. “I know we can’t date properly, but you can come to mine. I’ll cook you dinner…”
Just sex?
This is interesting, to say the least.
“I know, I guess I’m just feeling a little out of sorts.” Danielle sounds like she’s going to cry, and my heart ices over.
Don’t fuck my best friend then, Danielle.
I know I’m being irrational, but I can’t stop it.
Watching these two together is enough to make me want to smash this beer bottle at the wall.
“Blake didn’t even speak to me after the ceremony, not really. He was so cold,” Danielle confides tearfully. “How am I going to make this work for five years?”
