Page 47 of Best Friend's Dirty Ex

“You're right, you don't have to stand here and listen to this. But if you walk out that door, I think you should consider our friendship over. Because I don't deserve to be friends with someone who will just lie to my face instead of being honest with me. I deserve better.” I throw the words like a gauntlet, and she stops moving for a second.

When she finally turns around, I can see the anger in her eyes. The fact that she's mad instead of remorseful tells me everything that I need to know about our friendship and how little it means to her. If she's seriously mad at me for calling her out for being dishonest, then she doesn't give a damn.

“How dare you talk to me like that?” She spits the words like daggers, and I deftly sidestep with my response.

“How dare you lie to me and expect me to just accept it. I trusted you, and you proved that you couldn't be trustworthy. I'm not even sure why you're mad at me, given that I'm definitely the one who should be mad at you.” I'm not about to let her weasel her way out of responsibility for her actions. Maybe everyone else in her life refuses to hold her accountable, but I’m not everyone else.

“I need to go check in on my niece and make sure my family is okay.” She moves toward the door again.

“I really hope they are. I think this is goodbye, Lyla.” I have a heavy heart when I say the words, but instead I almost feel free. While I will happily give her another chance if she ever decides to come around, I absolutely don't want to be friends with someone who's going to lie to me for no good reason. Because, like I said, I deserve better. I'm done settling and allowing people into my life who are hurtful, hateful, or dishonest.

“Bye then.” With that, she leaves the room and I shake my head.

With her gone and me still trying to process what the heck just happened, I wish I had more answers. Instead, I just seem to have more questions.

I hope Troy will be at the bar as I head through the red rooms. As I open the door to the bar, I find him sitting with his shoulders hunched slightly.

I try to ignore the couples writhing in passion and taking each other to new heights as I slide onto the empty stool next to him. “Is this seat taken?” I want to give him the opportunity to back out if he doesn't want me sitting next to him. I'm not about to just push my way into his life and into his world without knowing that he wants me there.

“It is now.” He says the words with a cool charm that leaves me smiling. It almost sounds like he's back to his normal self again, a detail that makes me happy.

“How did we both manage to wind up with crazy ex-lovers?” I say the words as a joke, but he seems to take me seriously.

“Someone very wise once told me that if it seems like everyone in your life is insane, it's generally a good idea to look inward.” With a wry chuckle, he takes a drink of his whiskey.

“Typically, I'd agree with you, but after having a conversation with Lyla, I'm reasonably certain that she is the crazy one.” I can't help but laugh at my admission as a drink is placed in front of me.

“I guess that's fair.”

I glance over at him, wondering why he's not willing to just talk about this. “Are you standing up for her?”

He shakes his head in a negative gesture. “Not standing up for her as much as not willing to say anything bad about her.”

I take a moment to ponder that, wondering why he'd want to protect her after everything that she's done. There's no harm in being honest about how awful she's been, or the lies that she's told about him, or how she's tried to potentially ruin his life by calling him a kidnapper in front of his friends.

“You don't need to protect her.” I want him to know that this is a safe place, and he's welcome to speak and clear his mind.

He gives me a sideways glance. “What makes you think I'm trying to protect her?”

I hesitate for a second, unsure how to answer this question. “Well, maybe you're not exactly trying to protect her, but you're certainly not being forthcoming with what she did or putting any of the responsibility on her shoulders.”

“Just because I'm not vocalizing it doesn't mean that I don't feel that she is responsible for the things that she's done.” I catch what he's saying, and I understand that he just doesn't want to speak poorly of her, even if she deserves it. Which only makes me respect him more.

“Just remember, I'm not going to think anything bad about you if you tell the truth about her. I don't see that as talking down about people. I don't see that as a put down. I don't see it as anything negative. Sometimes talking about what people have done to us helps us process. It doesn't make you a bad person.” I reach out and gently pat his shoulder, and he nods his head in agreement.

“I appreciate that. Thank you.”

“I still can't figure out why she thought that you would kidnap her niece. It's kind of driving me crazy.”

He takes a drink of his whiskey, then stares into the bottom of the glass. “Yeah, she's never very forthcoming with answers.”

I want to poke fun at him by telling him that neither is he, but I think right now isn't the time. “Just out of curiosity, and I don't mean anything negative about this, but do you still have feelings for her?”

Now I have his full attention as his head swivels in my direction and he stares at me. I have no idea what's going through his head as he studies my face for a moment. “I don't have any romantic or sexual feelings for her, if that’s what you mean.”

The way he quantifies his statement has me wanting to ask more questions, and I see him brace as if ready for them. “Okay, so what do you feel for her?”

His brows knit together as if he's thinking about his response before he gives it. “Frustration. Anger. Maybe a little bit of contempt. There are a lot of things that you don't know, so please keep in mind that she’s earned what I feel for her.”

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