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"Maya, you've got to stop worrying about what other people are saying." There's a softness in his gaze. "You know, it's our lives, not theirs."
"But what about Kaitlyn?" I ask, my voice shaky.
He takes a moment to respond. “We'll deal with Kaitlyn. She’s strong. She’ll understand… eventually.”
"And what if she doesn't?"
Hunter's hand, still on my face, moves to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. He looks at me, his gaze serious. "Then we will give her time, as much as she needs. We can't control how others feel, Maya, but we can't stop living our lives either."
Why is he talking this way? She must know. He must know that she knows.
"She knows, doesn't she?"
Hunter looks sad. "Yeah... she knows."
I fucking knew it.
I can feel my heart in my chest, like it's trying to escape, to run away from the reality of the words he's spoken. "And she hasn't said anything to me? She hasn't... She hasn't even acknowledged it."
"She found out around the same time the rumors started. I hadn't told her before, I... I wanted to, but I was trying to find the right moment, the right words. I guess the media beat me to it."
The room feels so cold all of a sudden. Guilt stabs me in my heart. My best friend has been hurting because of me. Because I'm so selfish. I can't help but feel like I've failed her like I've failed our friendship.
I look down, my heart aching. "I can't believe I didn't even tell her. I've been such a shitty friend."
Hunter reaches out, his fingers lifting my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze again. "Maya, you’re not a shitty friend. This is a complicated situation. There’s no right way to handle it."
"But I should've told her... I should've told her."
Hunter's hand leaves my chin, rubbing my arm in an attempt to comfort me. "We can't change the past, Maya. All we can do now is try to make things right and keep moving forward."
His words don't comfort me. They can't. Because right now, all I can think about is Kaitlyn. And how much this whole situation must be hurting her.
"Maya, listen to me, this storm we're in... it won't last forever. Nothing does." He pauses, searching my eyes as if looking for some kind of assurance that I'm hearing him. "It's hard now, and it might be hard for a while, but eventually, it will all blow over. Things will go back to normal."
His hand finds mine, the warmth of his touch easing my emotions. "We have to hold on and weather the storm a little longer. Can you do that?"
I swallow hard, nodding. It doesn't seem possible, but right now, his words are the only thing offering me a glimmer of hope.
"I've got to get back to work." He leans down and presses a tender kiss to my forehead. "Relax a little, okay?" He gives me a small smile before turning to leave.
Alone again, a wave of nausea washes over me, a physical manifestation of the emotions inside me. It's too much. I need to take the rest of the day off. I send an email to the team, letting them know I'm not feeling well and that I'll be clocking out for the day. Hunter will understand.
As I grab my bag, I feel guilty for leaving early. It's not like me to not want to work. At all.
Work has always been my thing. A place I can lose myself in the whirlwind of tasks, deadlines, and achievements.
But now, as these rumors swirl around, my world feels like it is crumbling. Every email I send, every meeting I attend, I can't help but wonder if my colleagues are whispering behind my back, questioning my integrity, my professionalism. My hand trembles above my mouse as I click 'send' on my out-of-office email.
Have I ruined more than my friendship with these rumors? Have I jeopardized my career, my sanctuary? It's a new territory for me, this uncertainty, this anxiety. I've always been the one in control, the boss bitch with a plan. But now, it's like I'm free-falling.
I leave the office and make my way to the nearest drugstore, hoping to find something that will help ease the nausea.
As I walk in, the bright fluorescent lights seem harsh against my eyes. I blink a couple of times to adjust and make my way towards the counter where a middle-aged woman with a kind smile greets me.
"Hi, can you point me to some anti-nausea medication?"
She gives me a sympathetic look. "Sorry to hear you're not feeling well, dear. Is it just nausea or anything else?"
