AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I’m perfect…” she massaged her temple, hiding the swollen puffs below her eyes. “Just like that stupid sleep mask on your forehead.”
“What?” I knitted my brows, snatching the silly mask off my head. It read, “Wake Me for Pizza,” and I thought it was cute, hardly warranted for such a nasty remark.
“Why do you hate me?” I questioned impatiently.
“I don’t…”
“Yes, you do. And don’t say that you don’t. I tried to be nice to you. I tried to be accepting of your relationship with Parker. I see how happy you make him and that should make me happy too, but it doesn’t, because you’re so unbelievably mean.” I stepped closer to the counter, more confident. “You hate me, and I don’t know why. But if there is something I can do to fix it, then just tell me, but don’t punish me because it’s easier for you to be mean than honest.”
Camilla stuck her hand out, halting me. It looked like she wanted to cry, but ran out of tears.
“I don’t hate you, Gemma,” she gritted. “I’m just… threatened by you.”
I jolted back.
Threatened?Me? The girl in the pink, silk pajamas with the squeaky voice? That was ridiculous, I literally had nothing compared to her.
“That doesn’t make sense. How can—” I barely asked before she cut me off.
“Do you think it’s easy? Being with a man who only talks about how amazing his friend is? Hisbestfriend? About how you two share so much history and traditions? And it’s not just the inside jokes and quirks either, it’s the way he stares at you, Gemma. It’s nauseating.”
“He absolutely does not stare at me.”
“Oh, Gemma, please,” she scoffed. “I’ve been compared to you since the day I met him, since the second I stepped into his office and saw your photo on his desk. I’ve never been enough, living in the shadow of thefabulousGemma Rose Harrison.”
“We’re just friends.”
“Friends? Yeah, right. It’s so much more than that.”
“He chose you. What else is there?”
“Me? How could I ever be the one, when the one isn’t me?”
“Camilla, you’re wrong,” I defended, guarding myself from ever acceptingthattruth. God, I was so uncomfortable, her words like jabbing needles to my skin. All I could do was hunch my shoulders. “Parker doesn’t stare at me like he does you. There’s no one else.It’s you…” I reached for her hand, surprised by the warmth of her palm, and the fact that she didn’t pull away, but instead, choked back a sob.
“If you don’t see it, Gemma, then it’s because you’rechoosingnot to.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “I mean look at the guy, he’s sleeping soundly on the couch. That’s for you. I know it is. I’m nothing but a second choice, because Parker totally has feelings for you; the whole family does, and that’s the truth, and, god! I can’t believe I’m actually crying in front of you.”
She turned her cheek away from me, her tears nearly contagious, a foreign feeling I never knew was possible with her, yet here it was.
The truth was, I loved Parker, and beyond that I had already told him so. But at the end of the day, from years and years ago, despite his sweet rejection, the answer remained; Parker didn’t feel the way I did.
“Um… are you hungry?” I calmly let go of her hand, palming a tear from my cheek before turning away.
“Are you serious right now?”
“Of course. I’m asking for a reason. You might not know this, but Mama Meg only makes comfort food, and that’s exactly what you need. Did you even eat dinner?”
“No. Obviously.”
“Then you can’t think straight.” I stood from the counter. “You’re a smart girl, Camilla, but I’m telling you right now, you’re wrong about me and Parker.”
I made my way to a tin pan by the fridge, lifting its lid before pulling out a pair of forks from a drawer.
“I’m not wrong…” she sniffed.
“You are. Trust me. If Parker wanted me, he could have had me long ago, but that’s just not us. Things… are different, have been since we were kids.” I placed the tin between us as I passed her a fork. “Sure, we’re close, but not in the way you’re thinking. Have you ever asked him about it? I’m sure he’d tell you.” I dug my fork into the gooey center of the room temperature strawberry pie, chipping its crust.
Camilla stared at the fork, not yet touching it. “Of course not. It would just make me look insecure. I don’t want to seem like some obsessive psycho… like how I did tonight,” she looked completely mortified.
