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“Do you know my daddy?”
“I know your daddy. He’s my good friend.”
“I have a best friend, but she’s a girl. Her name is Ella. If a boy and a girl are best friends, they have to get married and have babies.”
I didn’t know how to break it to the kid. Life isn’t that simple.
“Jessa, what are you doing?” Morgan stomps toward us, yanking Jessa away from me, her eyes blazing with anger.
“Mommy, I’m just talking to Daddy’s best friend. They’re going to get married and have babies.”
Morgan’s furious gaze shifts from Jessa to me. Her eyes are narrowed, rigid, and her usually pale skin is flushed. Beside her, Jessa is quiet but scowls as Morgan’s grip tightens around her small arm.
“Um, no, I think you understood that all wrong, Jessa,” I try to correct her with a friendly smile.
“Are you calling my child a liar?” Morgan smolders with resentment.
“Of course not,” I say, trying to remain calm. “She’s just exaggerated the whole married and kids’ thing.”
“Jessa, please go say happy birthday to Amelia. We need to go.”
“But, Mommy, I want to stay with Daddy’s best friend,” she pouts, crossing her arms.
“Now, Jessa.”
Jessa runs off while firing off some childish names to her mother.
“Listen, it wasn’t—”
“So, you’re fucking my ex-husband? Oh, wa
it a minute, we’re still married, so you’re fucking my husband.”
“Morgan, it’s not—”
“You’ve had your eye on him since the moment I walked into his life. How does it feel to be second best?”
My confidence is shattered, the pain rippling through me as the woman who will forever be tied to the man I crave tells me I’m nothing. I can’t let her see me broken, and so with every fiber in my being, I muster up the courage to defend myself.
“I’ve stayed out of Noah’s life for the last three years. If your marriage fell apart, it has nothing to do with me. As for now, yes, I’m friends with Noah again. I’m not going to apologize for that.”
I walk away with my head held high, escaping to the house to calm down. My nerves begin to control my movements, my trembling hands to a fast-beating heart. My emotions jump from feeling insecure to angry, and I hate that she made me feel that way.
Inside the kitchen, I scour the top cupboard for any liquor I can get my hands on. Something to take the edge of if I’m going to last another two hours surrounded by screaming children and the memory of Noah’s wife telling me I’m second best.
With the bottle in my hand, a noise behind me stops me in my tracks. I turn around as Eric is standing across the room.
“We need to talk.”
‘Not know, Eric, please,” I beg with glassed eyes. “I need a drink.”
“Are you screwing my brother?”
My head lifts to meet his stern gaze, the shock drying my mouth. “Eric…”
“How long has this being going on?”
“It’s not what you think.”
