Page 47 of My Scorned Best Friend

Xavier says my name and I blink to see him standing in front of me. We’re no longer in that bed back in San Francisco, feeling like one. We’re practically strangers, trying to find our way back to a friendship and standing in my living room in Alaska.

I sip my vodka, gaining the confidence to do what I need to survive. “I think we need to reevaluate this friendship.”

15

“WE BOTH KNOW HER HEART WAS ALREADY TAKEN.”

Xavier

“Clara.”

She blinks and looks at me. I smile, but she doesn’t. She’s mad. I can tell from her stiff shoulders and the glass of vodka in front of her, all telltale signs she’s stewing over something.

I walk behind her, grab my own glass, and fill it with vodka.

She sips her drink. “I think we need to reevaluate this friendship.”

I almost spit out my vodka, but I struggle to swallow it and stare at her in disbelief. “What?”

“We’re hurting people. We hurt Ben.” She points upstairs. “All because you can’t figure out what you want.”

“You’re putting this on me?” I point at myself. “You were pissed at me because you wanted to date him, and I said no. Now I didn’t stand in the way, and you decide I’m somehow to blame?”

She rubs her forehead then strips off her sweater, leaving her in a tight bodysuit that only shows off the curve of her tits. How many times have I seen her in less and never thought about touching them the way I am now? What the fuck is wrong with me?

“I wanted to like him. I did. I didn’t want you to tell me what I could do and couldn’t do.”

“Then it’s just a failed dating experience between the two of you. I’m not sure how I come into it.”

She stares at me for so long I swallow the dry lump in my throat.

“Let me ask you a question. What do you want from this?” She waves her finger between us. I down the rest of my vodka and reach for the bottle, but she snags it first. “We’re doing this sober this time around.”

Can I confess to her the torrent of emotions coursing through me? I’m not even sure I understand what they all mean. “I don’t know. I’m confused.”

She nods and points at me. “And that’s why we need to part ways.” She takes the bottle and heads toward the couch.

“Clara, that’s not a solution.”

“It is. I can’t even look at you. I feel like you’re playing games with me, Xavier. Not on purpose. I don’t even think you know you’re doing it. But I see the way you feel when Ben’s around and I know what it meant the first time you acted that way.” She lets a long sigh leave her lips. “Do you know how hard it is to not have you in my life? I ached for our friendship every day.” She turns to look at me and there are tears in her eyes.

It's like a stab to the chest. “You think I didn’t feel the same?”

“I don’t know what you feel. I don’t think you do either. But do you know how embarrassing it is to live in this town and hear what people say about us?”

“We’ve always said screw them.” Ever since we were young, we’ve heard the jokes, the whispers that we were more than friends.

“Everyone thinks we belong together, and I have to listen to it constantly when I know the reason why we’re not. That one night we crossed the line and the next morning you woke up with regrets. And then you brought your new persona and your new girlfriend back here—which I realize you’re entitled to do, but that hurt me… so much.”

I could crumble to the ground right now. I’ve never felt like a bigger piece of shit. I didn’t bring Giulia to Sunrise Bay to hurt Clara. She was so pissed at me that I didn’t think she’d even care.

Shame has me staring at the floor. “I lost myself for a little bit there. Allowed that five-year deal to get in my head.”

She nods, and a tear slips down her cheek when I look back up at her. “Justified or not, I was humiliated when you stood on that stage with your arm wrapped around her waist. I was the one back here, having to answer all the questions everyone had after you left, dealing with everyone’s ‘poor Clara’ looks whenever I’d run into someone.” Her head falls forward in what looks like defeat. “So.” She picks up her head and wipes her tears. “You need to leave.”

Standing and turning on her heel, she heads toward the front door, and I hear it open.

I walk into the foyer, more determined than ever to make her understand how sorry I am for hurting her. “I’m not leaving.”

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