Page 7 of The Bodyguard Situation

It hurts, knowing Billie wasn’t happy for me, wasn’t happy for us, but I can’t pinpoint why.

We’ve been inseparable since we were five years old. Our lives are intertwined in every way that matters, both personally and professionally. Losing her support feels like losing a part of myself, and the ache gets worse with each mile marker we pass.

“I’m so sorry, Harper,” Micah says again, glancing at me with those reassuring green eyes.

“It’s okay,” I whisper, even though it isn’t. “It’s not your fault. I’m sorry too. I should’ve listened to you.”

“Don’t apologize,” he insists, his thumb tracing little circles on the back of my hand. “You can’t control how she reacts. That’s on her, not you.”

Billie and I have always navigated life’s ups and downs together, understanding each other in ways no one else could. No one elsecan. Until tonight, she’d always been my ride or die.

“Please tell me what happened,” I say, feeling my stomach twist as I picture Asher unleashing on Micah while Billie stood frozen and watched. “I can’t put the pieces together.”

Because I don’t have all the information.

Micah’s jaw tightens, and I see something dark flicker across his face. “Only if you promise you won’t be upset.”

“I promise,” I say quickly, desperate for answers.

He hesitates. “Are you sure you want to talk about this now? We can discuss it tomorrow, when emotions aren’t so high.”

I’m growing more frustrated.

“I won’t be able to sleep until I know the truth,” I say.

He seems to enjoy making me wait, and the silence drags on for an eternity. I really hate the uncertainty that grips me so tight that I can barely breathe. My anxiety is at an all-time high, and I try to take deep breaths in and out before I spiral.

He inhales sharply. “I wanted her blessing for our marriage. I asked if she’d be your maid of honor when we eloped. I told her I wanted to marry you soon, and she flipped out, got angry, and grabbed my cock. Then Asher barged in, saw her hand on me, us standing close, and lost it, like a jealous boyfriend. He wouldn’t listen and attacked me because ofher. You saw the rest.”

“Billie touched you?” My voice sounds far away, even to me.

My heart drops, disbelief hitting me hard. This isn’t something my best friend would do, especially after what she’s been through.

Nothing about tonight feels safe. Not even now.

His eyes flicker, like he’s remembering something painful. “She came onto me, Harper. She touched me inappropriately and said she wanted me for herself, that she couldn’t stand us being together. I can’t be around her,” he says, looking at me earnestly. “Do you believe me?”

Doubt creeps in. I want to trust Micah. He’s been nothing but kind and a steady part of my life for the past eight weeks. His jaw tightens, so I quickly answer.

“Of course I believe you,” I whisper.

“Then why did you hesitate?” he directly asks, and I don’t like his tone.

“I just … I find it difficult to comprehend.” I shake my head slowly, confusion still clouding my thoughts.

She’s always crushed on Asher, even when she said she wasn’t, even when she gave him hell. We all saw it—everyone did but her. Billie making a move on Micah doesn’t make any sense, and it’s hard for me to believe. I don’t question much he says, but when it comes to my best and most loyal friend, alarm bells sound.

One time, Billie dropped everything just to comfort me after a shitty breakup with a mediocre man. She skipped vacations and important plans to be there for me when I was upset. I feel uncomfortably wedged between being loyal to her and this guy I’ve fallen head over heels for, the one I’m supposed to marry.

I glance down at the engagement ring that still feels foreign on my finger. It’s big and gaudy, and I just always imagined having my mother’s ring.

“I wish I knew why she acted that way,” Micah says. “I should’ve let you talk to her first, but I know how much this wedding means to you—means to us. You’re the missing piece of my puzzle, Harper. I can’t imagine life without you.”

His words wrap around me, and I search for comfort in them.

I lean into his hand as he cups my cheek. “I want you two to get along. She’s been my best friend for twenty-seven years.”

“I can’t,” he says.

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