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Tell them who I truly was.
Who I truly loved.
Who I wanted to become.
But I couldn’t.
So I didn’t.
And the tension wound ever tighter inside me.
* * * * *
3 P.M.
I sat next to Neri on the couch.
Jack and Anna had gone for a quick walk along the beach before starting the final preparations for the extravagant dinner. Roast chicken permeated the house with rosemary and garlic potatoes. Crisp salads waited in the fridge, and freshly baked baguettes begged for lashings of butter. The lobster Jack and I had prepared earlier was chilling, and when I’d gone to claim yet another beer—because why fucking not, I need all the help I can get to stay sane today—the amount of containers and fresh fruit wedged on the fridge shelves hinted that none of us would be escaping tonight without a serious case of overindulgent indigestion.
Looking at Neri beside me, I cursed the approved space between us. She hadn’t snuggled closer the minute Jack and Anna had left or tried to pull my shorts down for a quickie.
She merely sat quietly beside me, texting Honey with furious flurries of her fingers while some nonsense played on TV.
Leaning closer, I read her latest thread over her shoulder.
Honey: Oh, I know. Family dramas are the worst! Christmas always seems to bring out the madness, hey? Cool diamond painting, though! I love doing them. Keeps my idle hands busy.
Neri: Think I just want to crawl into bed and wake up when today is over.
Honey: Go jump your boy’s bones. Go to bed but make it rock!
Neri: Hard to jump someone who doesn’t want to be jumped.
Fury unfurled like wildfire. “What the hell, Nerida?”
She flinched a mile as if she’d forgotten I even sat next to her.
“First, what the hell are you doing talking about us, and second, why would you say I don’t want you?”
Her forehead pinched with frustration. “You told me you wouldn’t have sex with me anymore. Not until I ‘cured’ myself.”
My heart twisted. “That wasn’t what I said. I never said you had to cure yourself.”
“Yes, you did.” Pure anger filled her gorgeous face. “Your exact words were, ‘this is the last time, canim.’”
“I meant last time using me to hide. Not last time we’re allowed to fuck.”
“Well, I’ve decided you were right. I need to find another way to get over it. So don’t worry, you’re off the hook.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means, I don’t need your help. I can do it on my own.” Standing upright, she fisted her phone and muttered, “I-I need to be by myself for a little while.” With a twirl of white miniskirt, she stalked down the corridor and into the main bathroom.
I sat blinking at the empty lounge.
What the fuck just happened?
My heart bellowed to go after her.
