Page 31 of Worthy

I can do this. I’m not the weak, helpless woman I feel like I am. I got away.

Wiping my face once more, I shake my head, clearing the self-deprecating fog from my mind. There’s no reason I can’t shove this aside to deal with once I’m in California. No reason I can’t enjoy myself on this road trip with my best friend. She flew all this way to help me, and the least I can do is put my best foot forward and slap a smile on my face. Fake it till I make it, right?

I can do that. Do my best to enjoy the next few days and let myself live in my heartache and anger for a while once we’re back home. I can figure it all out then.

Climbing into the shower, I step under the spray, letting the heat wash over me. Washing away the last few days—hell, the last several months. I scrub off the anger, the hurt, the confusion. The whiskey that’s sure to be soaked into my skin from when he threw his drink in my face before shoving me over the coffee table.

Rinse it all away, and by the time I turn the faucet off and climb out, wrapping a plush towel around my body, I can almost pretend I feel like a brand-new woman. I can almost feel the pain slipping down the drain.

Chapter Four

Wren Carlisle

“Oh my gosh!” Nelly slaps her hands on her knees, a giggle bubbling out of her. “Do you remember that one time we were in New York for the weekend during our winter break before we graduated college? We were at that club that was really hard to get into, but we finally got in because you schmoozed the bouncer.”

“Of course, I remember that.” I laugh, bringing the can to my lips and taking a few swallows. “That was such a fun night.”

“God, we danced forhours. Our feet were blistered and so sore by the time we made it back to the hotel, but it was worth it.”

The weekend she’s recalling holds much more significance to me than it probably does to her. For Nelly, it was a weekend away from home, away from college. A weekend to let loose and forget about our impending graduation and the future and what that meant for her and Anthony. It was all about pretty dresses, impractical heels, way too much laughter, and bottomless vodka sodas we sucked down until our heads were fuzzy and our smiles were wide.

For me, that weekend was the first time I knew with undeniable certainty that I was in love with my best friend. It was a sinking feeling. A pit in my stomach, so deep, I thought it would swallow me whole. It was chills and goosebumps and dread. It was realizing there’s no coming back from this. No coming out on the other side.

See, it wasn’t the first time I’d seen hair fall into her sapphire blue eyes and the urge to push it back and tuck it behind her ear was immense. It also wasn’t the first time she’d been laughing about something, and I imagined pulling her into my arms, running my nose through her silky-smooth white-blonde hair, inhaling her fresh, clean scent, and getting drunk on the smell alone. And it wasn’t even the first time I laid beside her in bed, watching her as she slept so peacefully, wondering what it would be like to let myself fully consume her. Let myself feel the pillow softness of her lips, taste the bubblegum on her tongue, and feel her body pressed against mine.

No… It wasn’t the first for any of that because, the truth is, I’ve been crushing on my best friend since before I even knew what it meant to have a crush. It was, however, the first time I knew without a doubt that what I felt for her was more than the love of a friend. More than the love of family. It waslove, and it was unrequited. Because it was also the weekend that she confessed to me that she had a feeling Anthony was about to propose to her, and she was squealing with excitement at the thought of it.

At the thought of being his bride. His wife.

It was the weekend I mastered the unhealthy skill of compartmentalizing. It was the time I learned how to shove my feelings aside and pretend they didn’t exist. It was the moment when I swallowed every desire, every second look, every itch to touch, because I couldn’t fathom losing my best friend over feelings that couldn’t and wouldn’t be returned. Despite how utterly and pathetically in love I am with Nelly, her friendship means way too much to me to chance ruining that.

So, I locked it up tight and threw away the key.

And I will continue doing that until the end of time because she’s my soulmate. Even if only the friend kind.

*NSYNC’sBye Bye Byecomes on through my Bluetooth speaker sitting on the dresser beside the TV, and Nelly’s slightly bloodshot eyes—luckily, this time from the alcohol, andnotfrom her crying—go wide as she jumps to her feet, nearly knocking herself off balance, turning the music up and belting out the lyrics like we’re in middle school again. We once auditioned for the school’s talent show with this song. Did a dance routine to it with our other friend, Danielle. We were horrible and didn’t win, but fuck, we had fun anyway.

She grabs my hand, pulling me up, and I have just enough time to set my drink down before she drags us to the middle of the room, between both beds, as she resumes dancing, urging me to do the same. And so, we do. We sing the lyrics, dance all around the tiny space, heads thrown back in laughter, and it feels like we’re sky high.

This is a side of Nelly I haven’t seen in years. If the last twenty-four hours have showed me anything, it’s how in denial I was about everything. Her spark went out a while ago. Years even. The twinkle in her eyes when she spoke about her passions flickered to darkness, but I was too scared to deal with it.

And in a way, that means I failed her.

But this moment right here… this is the old Nelly. Even if it’s only for tonight and under the influence of White Claw. Even if in the morning, her melancholy takes back over, and the sadness turns her beautiful, full pink lips back into a frown. Even if, like Cinderella, there’s an expiration date, I’ll take it, because there is nothing quite like watching my best friend allow herself to be happy, to feel joy, after losing her flame for so long.

***

One minute, I’m blissfully sleeping, covered in a pile of fluffy, warm blankets, and the next, I’m startled awake to the sound of muffled sobs. It takes me a moment to remember where I am. To remember I’m not in my San Diego condo, overlooking the Pacific, all alone like I always am. No, I’m somewhere in the middle of Kansas at some off-the-highway hotel with my best friend.

Nelly…

The sounds are coming from her. Shoving the covers off my bare legs, reaching her bed in one and a half steps, my hand goes to her shoulder as I shake her, trying to wake her from whatever nightmare she’s clearly having. It takes a few moments, but finally, she jerks out of the dream, her eyes wide and frantic as they land on me.

“Wren!” Her voice is cracked and there’s a chilling fear in her tone.

“I’m right here, babe.” I rub her shoulder as she works to steady her breathing. “It was just a nightmare.”

She relaxes into her pillow, pushing the hair out of her face.

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