After my argument with Fallon last week, I set an alert on Nathan’s name because I want to know anything and everything she says about him from now on.
I honestly didn’t expect it to go off.
I grit my teeth, preparing for the worst, but hoping for the best.
Fallon is my friend. She might not like Nathan, but she loves me. That should be enough for her to slow down and process what I’ve told her about us. Nathan isn’t a villain. He’s the hero. He’s good for me. Hell, he’s good for anyone who crosses his path. From little kids needing a pep talk before a talent show to full blown adults who need a helping hand, Nathan West is the one reaching out. Maybe Fallon finally heard me.
But then I see the headline.
It’s Fake Folks…
Jaw dropped, I forget all about getting ready for my date with Nathan and scan the story then scan it again. What I read can’t be real.
It’s the article she suggested we write as leverage all those months ago. The one I absolutely didn’t agree to.
As I continue to read, my heart stops. This is worse than I thought. So much worse.
Fallon didn’t just give details of my life, my relationship, things I only shared because I thought they were protected by best friend code.
She embellished.
First, she betrayed my trust, then she doubled down and added speculation as if it were truth. I look bad, but Nathan looks like Asshole of the Year.
My heart pounds so hard I feel my pulse in my ears.
Fallon just ruined everything. My relationship. Our friendship. Hell, maybe even my career. Will Benjamin want anything to do with me after this? They say there’s no such thing as bad publicity, but I’m not sure he operates like that.
I don’t know who to call first, Nathan to apologize or Fallon to rip her a new one. He’s sure to be a mess, but she deserves to feel my outrage while it’s fresh.
A text comes in just as I pick up my phone to call her.
Nathan
Can’t make dinner. Family stuff. I’m sorry.
Family stuff.
I stare at my reflection in my vanity mirror, distress tightening my brows, my jaw, my lips.
Not only is the text vague, but those choppy sentences end in periods.
Everyone knows a period is bad news.
Shaking my head, I stand and pace my room in frustration. There’s a chance family stuff really did come up. There’s also a chance Nathan read the article and is freaking out and doesn’t want me around.
Shit.
With my anger doubling by the second, I call Fallon. She answers on the first ring.
“How dare you!” My jaw is so tight, my voice comes out thin and hissing and weak. It’s a terrible indicator of the rage boiling through my bloodstream. I stalk out of my bedroom and down the hall, unable to stay still.
“Mina…listen…”
“No, you listen.” I stab the air like I’m poking her in the chest, then huff a sigh. “Actually? No. I want you talking. What the hell were you thinking?”
“This is for your own good.”
“My own…?” I swipe a hand over my face as if that’ll help Fallon’s statement make more sense. “My own good? Who are you to decide what’s good for me and what’s not good for me?”
“I’m your best friend.” She sounds so sure. So final. So confident that I’ll hear her excuse and be completely okay that she might have blown up my relationship with Nathan right as it got off the ground.
It was already going to be hard telling him that Fallon is my friend. And I am a weak asshole for not doing it when I went over there for that express purpose.
But now? After this? He’ll never forgive me.
There’s only one way she could know so much about everything.
Because I told her.
Dear God. I know I asked for clarity, but did it have to come like this? Tearfully, Mina Blake.
I sink to the floor where I stand, my head in my hand, my heart in my throat. “You were my best friend.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“Give me a reason not to.”
“I published that story for you, Mina. To help you. You’re falling in love with someone that doesn’t exist. This guy is playing a role for you. The real Nathan West will chew you up and spit you out.”
He will after I tell him the truth. If only I hadn’t been such a coward. If only I told him Fallon is my friend the first time he mentioned her name…
“If I want to get chewed up and spit out, that’s for me to decide. Not you. I feel physically sick, Fallon. You have no idea what you’ve done.”
“Meens…”
“Don’t Meens me. Nathan canceled dinner. Your article goes live and seconds later, he’s dealing with ‘family stuff.’” I make air quotes even though no one’s around to see.
“Don’t you think that should tell you something?” Her voice is too soft. Like she’s trying to lead me to a realization she had weeks ago. Like she feels sad and sorry and knows I’ve been foolish.
It relights the fire of my rage.
“I’m not going to assume it means anything until I talk to him. See, that’s what you do when you care about someone. You take them at their word until they prove you wrong.” I’m up and pacing again, appalled that Fallon had the balls to publish that article. That she actually believed she was helping me by dropping a bomb on my life. She had no right to make this decision for me. None at all.
This is such an awful feeling, being exposed for the world to see. Not just exposed. Misrepresented. It’s more than a violation of trust. It’s a defilement of my sovereignty. It amazes me that Nathan didn’t go completely insane under this much scrutiny. He has every right to hate Fallon as much as he does.
“Mina…” Fallon starts to make more excuses for herself, but I’ve heard all I care to.
I end the call because I can’t stand the sound of her voice, then throw the damn phone onto the couch with a fist clenching, body shaking growl. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt this betrayed. Fallon? I trusted her with my life.
