Page 53 of Champagne Kisses
“I may have been right, but I was a bitch.” In seconds, the anger has completely drained from her voice. “I didn’t have to unload on you like that. You’d just had a crazy stressful night with your boyfriend’s family and I made the whole thing about our bullshit.” My heart squeezes when I remember all the painful things she yelled.
“Maybe next time, don’t wait years to tell me the truth.” That’s what hurts the most; not only did she think I was a terrible friend, but she waitedyearsto tell me anything about it! But if I don’t let that go, I’m letting go of a friend that’s like a sister. That’s major for an only child. “The only reason I always came to you, is because I trust your opinion more than my own. And I always assumed you would do the same if you needed to talk to me about something.” I wipe the tears starting to form in my eyes and hear her long exhale over the phone.
“I definitely do, Maya. But I talk to a professional about the really heavy stuff.” My shoulders tense as soon as I hear the word “professional”. Does she think I’m crazy or something? She must’ve guessed what my silence is about.
“Don’t be like that, Maya. I go, maybe once a month, or more if I’m really going through something. Most of the time, it’s like an emotional tune-up to make sure I’m not picking up someunhealthy coping mechanisms. Like excessive retail therapy, or going on a bunch of Tinder hook-ups where I barely remember their name.”
I don’t know what to say. I didn’t realize Denise went to therapy. I didn’t realize she had a reason toneedtherapy, though I guess that sounds crazy when I really think about it. I’ve waited too long to talk again and Denise chuckles.
“All right, all right. Enough of the after school special. What happened with all the Adam stuff? Did y’all make up?”Ha!Not exactly.
“We actually kinda…broke up.” Denise gasps dramatically.
“Maya! Oh my God. Are you OK? What happened?”
And for the second time today, I tell someone other than Khan all the gory details about the breakup. I even tell her about sneaking into Adam’s apartment building to apologize, catching him with Emily and a bottle of wine, and the embarrassing scene on the sidewalk. But it doesn’t feel good to get it all off my chest. It feels final, like saying it out loud validates the breakup, and I’ve been desperate to believe it was all a horrible nightmare.
“Damn, Maya. I’m so sorry,” she almost whispers. So was I. “I know you really liked him, even though it’d only been a few months.”
“To be honest, I was in love with him. Iamin love with him.“ She stifles a snort that would really piss me off if I weren’t already devastated.
“How can you be sure? It’s hardly been any time at all.” Even so, I’ve known for weeks. I allowed myself to believe it wasmutual; that it was just a matter of time before we exchanged the words.
“I just know. That’s why I kept running away so much at first. Feeling so strong so fast scared the shit out of me.” I hang my head, beyond hopeless. “And now it’s over.”
“Maya, what the fuck?” My head pops up, shocked at her response. Maybe she’s still pissed at me. “You’re gonna through away a great guy, a guy you claim tolove, over one bad fight?”
“But he said he didn’t want to see me!”
“No he didn’t, bitch!” She’s talking to me like I sometimes hear some of the other teachers talk to students. Like she’s disappointed I’m not seeing something right in front of me. “He said he’s tired of you taking out your insecurities on him when he’s clearly crazy about you. I don’t believe he was hooking up with Emily fora minute. You said he practically had to get a restraining order.”
“Oh, I know that,” I say absentmindedly. The bombshell that Adam didn’t dump me is still swirling around my head, making all other thought almost impossible.He didn’t break up with me?
“Well, then why haven’t you called him? Or texted? Or tried going over there again?” From the sound of it, Denise is gesticulating as she gets more and more hyped.
“I’ve tried texting and calling,” I shrug, defeated. “He doesn’t answer my calls, and texts are just, like, one-word answers. He’s not trying to link up to talk. He’s not trying to see me at all.”And it’s excruciating.
“Oh. Well…Maybe just give it time. Give him time to cool down.” She hesitates. “And…maybe give yourself time to talk to someone to help with your emotional stuff. There’s nothing wrong with it. Just think about it.”
I had never thought about therapy, but Denise is my girl, and she wouldn’t suggest it if it weren’t legit. Plus, she seems like the most confident, bold woman I know, next to Tiffany. Maybe it’s because of therapy. Maybe it’s time to let some of my baggage go.
Chapter twenty-nine
Adam
“Whattup, bro?! To what do I owe the surprise visit?” Bryan answers the door wearing just boxers, looking sweaty and out of breath. I hear D’Angelo playing from the other room.Jesus!Why would you answer the door in the middle of having sex with your fiancee?!
“Oh, I caught you in the middle of something,” I mutter as I back away from the apartment door. “I’ll call you and we’ll grab lunch.” Bryan looks at me like I’m being ridiculous and literally laughs in my face. Though he looks like an Abercrombie Chad, he’s always had a warm, friendly laugh.
“Shut the fuck up, man. We were just…” he looks to his bedroom, chagrined. “…finishing up.” Oh my God.
“Hiiiii, Adam!” Jessi calls from the other room. “You’ve got terrible timing!” Her words are harsh, but I can hear the laughter in her voice. Bryan is chuckling to himself.
“I’m a lucky man. What can I say?” I smile in response to my friend’s lovestruck mood. If only I were so lucky…I definitely wouldn’t leave making love with Maya to answer the fucking door, though.
“Yeah, well…” I rock back and forth on my feet, unsure how to broach the subject. “Do you have a sec? I need to talk to you about something.”
Sensing the seriousness of my tone, he pulls me the rest of the way into the apartment and shuts the door behind us. He grabs a seat on the sofa and pats the seat next to him. As I approach, I see his dick winking at me through the hole in his boxers and immediately look at the ceiling.
