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She folds the papers in two, shoves them in my back pocket, and pushes me toward the door. “Go.”
“No!” I turn around and throw the papers into a shiny trash can to my left. “I’m not leaving. You’re not thinking straight with all your pregnancy hormones—”
Shane groans so loudly, both Juliette and I jerk to stare in the direction of the sound. Then we glare at each other.
“I need you.” Screw pride and everything that comes with it. “More than ever. You’re my best friend.”
“Am I? When was the last time you volunteered any new or exciting or problematic news to me? When? I found out that you nearly got mugged from the media headlines. How about your new girlfriend? You’re serious enough to release a song with her.”
“That was a leak. We’re not releasing anything together.” We’re not even together anymore.
“It doesn’t matter. Do you think I don’t realize that all these years I was the one running to you? You endure me and sacrifice yourself for me out of habit—”
“Do you realize what you’re saying?” I snap, exhausted by having my every wrongdoing heaped upon me. I know I’m an idiot. I never claimed I wasn’t, but what’s with today? Every breath I take leads me deeper into a labyrinth of misery I’ll never be able to escape. I had to let Laurel go. I can’t lose Juliette on top of that, but heaven help me. What is she saying? “Who in their right mind sacrifices anything for people out of habit?”
“Call it whatever you want!” Juliette takes the papers out of the trash can and slaps them against my chest. “Just stop. Cease and desist. Be free. Be happy at last, without us ruining your life.”
She marches out of the kitchen.
I throw the paperwork onto the floor and follow her. I’ll be danged if we end years of friendship like this. “Jules!”
She ignores me and proceeds straight through the living room and past Shane to some room where she can slam a door in my face.
I try to stay on her tracks, but Shane hops off the couch and pins me to the corner. “Let her go.”
Without thinking, I thrust the base of my palm into his nose. Shane makes a startled, gurgling noise and stumbles several feet back. Blood gushes down his upper lip, and he presses two fingers under his nostrils.
“Don’t stain the new rug,” I say, grinding the words through my teeth, and storm out of his place. He had it coming. I’ve itched to punch him for years. My knuckles have longed for his blood for so-o-o long.
I leave the door open behind me, walk to my car, and kick the front tire over and over and over again, swearing until my tongue bleeds and the words lose their meaning. I hate everything my life has become. Everything I have become.
That punch still vibrates in my wrist. It solved nothing. I still hate Shane.
I hate myself more.
Within an hour, I’ve wrecked two hearts. Three, if I count my own, but I won’t. I don’t deserve any mercy or anything. I broke Laurel’s heart, I made my pregnant best friend cry and forced her hand to push me away, and I made the love of her life bleed. Can anyone tell me what for? What did I get in the end?
Out of breath, I climb into the car, drop my head against the backrest, and close my eyes. I want to burn. I want to drive and wreck my SUV and end up in a coma. I need—
The sound of the passenger door opening wrestles me back into the real, suffocating world. Shane climbs inside, holding an ice bag over his nose.
“FYI, I half expected it every time I was within three feet of you, ever since you found out I was in love with Juliette. I just didn’t expect a palm to the nose. I always thought you’d clock me with a good old fist in the jaw instead.” His voice is muted and nasal. “And in case you were wondering, you didn’t break it.” He shoots me a piercing look. “You won’t get a chance to finish the job.”
“What do you want? An apology? Never gonna happen.”
“You can’t leave.”
I stare at him.
Shane rotates the ice pack. “I won’t pretend it’d be a lot easier for all of us if you just disappeared, but easier doesn’t mean right. Whatever you and Juliette share, it shouldn’t end like this. It should have a chance to run a more natural course where you both get older, married, with kids, too busy, you know? Where you drift apart bit by bit because life is too full of insanity and love for someone else, not because of a dumb fight between you and your girlfriend at some dumb party.”
“I broke up with Laurel.” Why the heck did I tell him that?
“Hm. When?”
“This morning.” I still have no idea why I keep talking about it with him.
“Why? She seemed quite into you, for some reason.”
