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“Why? You made your choice. I’m just here for what I’m owed. I quit.”
“You’re ready to blow up years of friendship because you don’t like my boyfriend?”
They scoffed bitterly. “Boyfriend. Great. He’s an asshole, and you’re a cunt for wanting him, but I don’t give a shit who you fuck. This is over because you don’t give a shit about me.”
Petra hated that fucking word, and despised that Dre was using it as a weapon, but that wasn’t the right focus now. “That’s not remotely true. I love you, Dre.”
“Then fuckingloveme!” they yelled. They dropped their arms and surged forward, so quickly Petra flinched back. “Stop fucking peoplelikeme right in front of me and just loveme.”
Petra would never be a couple with Dre again, even if there was no one else in the picture. They’d had that conversation. More than once. It had been years since Dre’s feelings had flared like this. She didn’t understand why Jake was the catalyst.
“You keep saying Jake’s like you. I don’t see it, but even if it’s true, how can you hate him so much, then?”
“You are fucking blind not to see it, and fucking stupid if you don’t know the answer to your question.”
“I need you to stop calling me names, Dre.”
They leaned in and down, until their nose was only an inch from Petra’s. “Why? Are you going to dump me? Break my heart? You already did that. Twice, now.” They grabbed Petra’s shoulders. “Why can’t you just love me like I love you? I would give you everything I have. I’d give you my liver, both my kidneys, my heart. You can have it all. I know you want me. You keep trying to replace me. You can have the real thing!”
They slammed their mouth over Petra’s, shoved their tongue past her lips, crushed her body to theirs. Petra could taste blood, feel the tearing as her lips ground against her teeth. And then Dre bit down.
A tremendously nasty memory stormed forward, and Petra fought to get free. But she was five-six and a hundred-twenty pounds, and Dre was six feet tall and probably weighed one-sixty. Dre was forcing her backward, onto her desk, and all Petra could do was turn her head and get free of the kiss the second Dre’s teeth let go.
She knew one thing that might break through Dre’s furious madness. It was a violence of its own, and even now she thought twice, but if she didn’t get Dre to stop, there would be nothing left between them that could be saved. This history could not be repeated.
“ANDREA STOP!” she yelled. As she expected, the deadname, with all the baggage it carried, stopped Dre cold. They didn’t back off, only froze, but it was enough for Petra to feel like the danger was over.
A few seconds later, Katie pounded on the office door and jiggled the knob—Dre had locked the door. “PET? DRE! LET ME IN!”
“Back off, Dre,” Petra said, finding a calmer voice. Dre stood back. Their mouth was bloody, too—no, actually, that blood was Petra’s. Her lips felt like they had gotten stuck in a garbage disposal.
She swiped the back of her hand across her mouth as she went to the door and let Katie in.
“Oh fuck me,” Katie said when she got a look at Petra’s face. She turned to Dre. “I’d ask why you’re like this, but we all know.” To Petra, she said, “What do you want to do?”
She had no idea. She wanted to go home and get in bed with Jake and watch Netflix and forget about the whole mess of her day. Her life. But she couldn’t do that.
“I just want to wash up and get back to work.”
Dre’s head hung on sagging shoulders. “I’ll go. You can just put the pay you owe me through the usual way. I’ll work out how to get out of the apartment as soon as I can.”
They slumped to the door and pushed between Petra and Katie. Reflexively, Petra grabbed their hand. “I don’t want to lose you.”
“Then you chose wrong.” They shook free and walked away.
Katie stood in the doorway and watched until Dre had gone into the stairwell. Then she turned to Petra.
“You two are likeDays of Our LivesandThe Young and the RestlessandThe Bold and the Beautifulall mixed up in a blender and topped withThe L Word. I don’t know whether to help you clean up or go follow Dre around and make sure they don’t do anything even stupider.”
“I can clean myself up. I’m okay. Make sure they’re okay. I can’t deal with this getting worse.”
“Okay. Get some ice on your mouth, honey. It’s gonna bruise.”
The mention of ice made her think of what she should be doing right now. “Who’s got the bar?”
At that, Katie found her smirk. “Maude. She’s been paying attention all these years. She was making an Old Fashioned when I came back.”
An Old Fashioned was both a classic and a very complicated cocktail. Petra started to smile at the image, but her mouth hurt too much.
