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“No.” It’s a denial. It’s also an accusation.Why is he hurting me like this?
Bradford’s features twist. “I’ve heard gossip for a little while now, but I witnessed it for myself two weeks ago. I would have told you earlier but I didn’t want to mess with your headspace while you were busy with the ball.”
“You must have misunderstood what you saw. Johnathon would never cheat on me. Besides, he works so much that he wouldn’t have the time.”
“Are you sure he’s working?” He uses the gentlest tone he’s ever used with me. I don’t pay attention though because his question is not gentle as far as I’m concerned. It’s harsh and ithurts.
“Of course he’s working.”
“Kristen—”
I put my hand up to stop him.
I need him to stop.
Just stop, stop,stop.
“No, Bradford. I’m not defending my fiancé’s work ethic to you. Johnathon is busy building for our future. He’s a good man. He treats me well and loves me like no one has ever loved me. Please stop saying these things to me.”
Bradford looks at me for a long moment. He appears to be weighing something up. I think he should stop weighing everything up and just leave. But he doesn’t. Instead, he says, “I’ve always been honest with you, Kristen, and I’m not going to stop now, even if telling you this is the very last thing I want to tell you. I wouldn’t bring gossip to you, but I saw him. Heischeating on you. He might treat you well when he’s with you, but a man who doesn’t respect the trust his partner gives him is not a man who treats you well.”
I have a whole future mapped out with Johnathon. One that will make me very happy. I’m not listening to this. I can’t listen to this.
I shake my head as I take a step away from him. “No. You’ve got it wrong. I have no doubt that when I ask Johnathon about this, he’ll clear the confusion up. We’re very happy together.” I smooth my hands down over my stomach while thinking that I might need to sit after all.
Bradford reaches for me, but I jerk my arm away. I do not want him touching me. Not ever again.
“Kristen,” he says, his eyes full of an apology I also don’t want anything to do with. “I know this is hurtful, but it’s the truth. I would never lie to you.”
“No!” I yell, losing all ability to keep my emotions tightly locked up. They explode all over the place. In between us. Above us. Around us. “I’ve had to listen to your thoughts on my work, on my father, and on my choice of partners for a long time now, and I’m done. Done! You should go back to your happy life and your perfect fiancée and stop worrying about me and my life. We were only ever friends, Bradford, and not good ones at that. I think there’s a reason why we never joined each other’s life in a meaningful way. We weren’t supposed to. And now we know that, we can finally end whatever this is.”
Everything I say is a blow to him. The way the lines of his face contort and the look of pain that fills his eyes tell me that. When he speaks, the crack in his voice leaves me with no doubt. “The definition of a good friend isn’t one you see or hear from every day. Not in my estimation. It’s one who is always honest, always thoughtful, always kind, always trustworthy. It’s someone who does those things with good intentions. And sometimes it involves giving the hard truth. We were always good friends, and as far as I’m concerned, you have been in my life in a very meaningful way.”
“That’s utter bullshit, Bradford. If I was in your life in that way, I’d beinyour life. I’d know what you’re doing each week. I’d know what’s making you happy, what’s frustrating you, what you’re looking forward to. Let’s not pretend we were more than we actually were.”
Frustration fills his face. “If you want to fight this out, if that’s what you need for me to get you to see the truth of your life, I can do that.”
My eyes widen. “The truth of my life? Can you be any more condescending?”
“Fuck, I’m not trying to be condescending. I’m—”
“Well, take it from me, you are being exactly that. And I don’t like it.”
“You don’t like a lot of things, Kristen, and yet you stay with men who do things you shouldn’t like, and you keep doing work that isn’t what you actually want to do. How many more years are you going to keep all this up? Or are you planning on filling your entire life with these things?”
Anger chokes my heart, my body, my soul. The throne he has owned for so many years bursts into flames and I violently throw away the key he held to me. “Get out.” My breaths are rushing through me, and my chest feels like the skin there might actually split apart. “Get out now!”
His nostrils flare. “I’m not done.”
“Oh, you are. You really fucking are. I refuse to listen to another word you have to say.”
“Kristen—”
“No!” I scream. I stalk to the elevator that delivered him here and jab the call button before looking back at him. “I want you to leave and I never want you to come back. I never want to speak to you again. If you see me out, do not come anywhere near me. This is done.Weare done.”
Bradford has the good sense to stop fighting me. He doesn’t look happy about any of this or about leaving, but he does. The last thing I see on his face as the elevator doors close is more of that regret in his eyes. I hate that look on him. I hate it so much it physically hurts.
After he leaves, I sit.
