Page 32 of Best Friend's Dirty Ex

I can tell that she's completely done with this conversation, but he clearly isn't.

“What are you going to do if I refuse?”

Again, my blood begins to boil, and I want to break down the door and drag the guy out by the back of his neck.

“Call the cops and tell them that you're violating the restraining order and let them come arrest you.” Again, she sounds completely unflappable, and I wonder how she's managing to keep her composure. In her shoes, I'd probably be pissed... or terrified.

Done just listening to them, I rap the back of my knuckles on the door.

“Who the fuck would be visiting right now?” James sounds positively furious and I hope I haven't put her in danger by knocking. If he hurt her, I'd never forgive myself and I wouldn't stop myself from potentially putting him six feet under.

“I'm not expecting anyone, but I'm going to go check. Maybe the cops are already here. I mean, you're being loud enough that my neighbors would call.” I hear her scare tactic for what it is and know that she's trying to warn him that if he doesn't let her get to the door, things are about to get worse. She has no way of knowing it, but she's absolutely right.

She pulls the door open to me and her mouth drops open in surprise.

“Need backup?” I mouth the words.

Her throat flexes as she swallows hard, and she gives a single, slight nod. “Hi, Troy.” The way she says the words warns me that he knows who I am and that trying to pretend anything else won't work out.

“Hi, Everly. You haven't been by the work site in a while, and I'm just checking in to make sure you're okay. Do I need to call someone?” With that, I step inside, following her lead, and come face to face with James. He’s quite a bit shorter than I am and somewhat stockier than I expected, but he absolutely doesn't look like a threat. Not that I'll dismiss him off hand, because that would be stupid. Underestimating a threat can backfire, as I’ve so recently been reminded.

“I'm doing okay, just catching up with an old ex.” I notice the way she positions herself, as if ready to make a quick exit.

“James, right?” I'm not speaking to him. I'm watching her as I talk. “You told me about him. Do we need to get the cops out here since he is currently violating the protective order that's in place against him?”

I can see the relief in her eyes as she exhales. “I asked him to leave nicely. I figure I'll give him the opportunity to do so. Of course, if he refuses, I will absolutely call the cops.”

We both glance at James, who seems to be struggling internally. Given what I know about him, I imagine this is difficult.

Knowing that I know him for what he is, knowing that she's talking about him, knowing that he's not in control of this situation or how people see him, all of these things have to be driving him nuts. It's no wonder he's standing there, unsure what to do next.

“This isn't over.” He snarls the words at Everly, who lifts her shoulders and gives her head a slight shake.

“This is your last warning; if you show up here again, I will keep the door locked and call the cops.” The tone of her voice lets him know she's not messing around. She absolutely means what she's saying and I'm proud of her for standing her ground, standing up against him and being unwilling to give him another chance or opportunity.

He stomps out of the house and slams the door behind him, and she finally lets out a full sigh and turns to me.

I can see how red her cheeks are and how frustrated she is about the whole situation.

“Why are you here?” There's anger in her voice, and I have to wonder if it's rolled over from dealing with her ex or if she's still angry at me because of what I did to her. Maybe it's a combination of both. It doesn't really matter. I accept that she's angry and her emotions are valid no matter where or what they stem from.

“I was telling the truth. I'm here because you haven't been to the work site and I'm a bit worried about you. You're also not answering your phone.”

Her expression relaxes and she takes a deep breath before slowly releasing it. “Sorry, I'm just wound up pretty tight.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” I'm not here to make her feel bad. I really am here because I'm genuinely worried about her.

“I do want to thank you. It's lucky that you showed up when you did because I was worried he was about to start escalating his behavior.” As she says the words, her shoulders lower slightly, and she walks over toward a white kitchen table and sits down in a chair. I love how bright and airy and well-lit her space is, and I realize that our tastes are very, very similar. I follow her over and take a seat across the table from her, carefully keeping a firm distance between us so that there is no chance for contact.

“I’m glad to help. Now, how are you doing?” I know it's a loaded question, and I know that there's every chance that she'll unload any anger and hurt she feels toward me on me right now, and I feel like I deserve it. “Please feel free to speak your mind. Don't spare my feelings.” I want her to know that it doesn't matter what she has to say, she's welcome to say it.

“Actually, I'm kind of okay. Lyla and I aren’t talking. She did try to apologize, but I'm not sure I accept her apology. You don't betray the people you care about like that. You don't try to use your friends to get money from people.” I can see the storm clouds rolling into her expression as she speaks, and I so badly want to tell her the truth about Lyla.

Still, I know that now is not the time and I’m not sure that it’s my place to tell her what happened all those years ago, what her friend has done, and what her friend is capable of doing to others she claims to love. Maybe she's grown up, but it seems like she still does some of the same things she did back then. As I remember the past, it feels like there's a fist squeezing my heart and I inhale.

She seems to hear the noise and lifts her head to watch me. “Are you doing okay?”

“About as well as I can be, all things considered, but this isn't about me. I'm the one that hurt you; you don't owe me any kindness.” I want to reach out and gently pat her arm, but I know better and keep my hands to myself. “I want to say that what I feel for you, I still feel, and if you're ever willing to give that a chance, that would make me incredibly happy.”

---