I can’t talk to Fallon; she’s part of the problem.
I’m not ready to talk to Nathan, and I’m gonna bet the feeling is mutual.
Mom has enough on her plate and isn’t strong enough to handle my emotional turmoil. Since that sums up my list of trusted confidants, it looks like I’m on my own for this one.
With a wry twist of my head, I pull on my sweats, go to the store to stock up on ice cream, and hunker down for the weekend.
The day fades and so does my anger, leaving a queasy trail of guilt in its wake.
This fiasco is on me.
I knew I needed to tell Nathan Fallon was my friend. And I knew it was going to be ugly when I did, which is why I kept putting it off. But instead of hearing it from me, he finds her in my bedroom first thing in the morning while wearing my underwear after discovering his cousin is missing.
That’s ugly stacked on ugly stacked on ugly, compliments of yours truly.
Nathan reacted badly, but who could blame him? Considering the circumstances, a saint wouldn’t have done better.
With a sigh, I swipe my phone off the table.
I’m so so so so so sorry. I can’t stop thinking about you. I miss you. I’d love to talk when you’re feeling up to it
Nathan
I’m not feeling up to it.
For what it’s worth, I haven’t been manipulating you
If that’s true, I’m sorry I called you a whore for clicks.
It is true.
And I just now realized you said you’re not feeling up to talking and I’m making you talk anyway.
When you’re ready, I’m here.
I wait for signs of a response that never come, then lock my phone with a sigh and head to the freezer for another pint of ice cream.
THIRTY-EIGHT
Nathan
I glare at my phone as the last text from Mina comes in.
Mina
When you’re ready, I’m here.
I’m not fucking ready to talk to her and I don’t know if I ever will be. She knew how I felt about Fallon. She knew! I should have been made aware of their friendship from the very beginning.
All those articles.
All those terrible things Fallon said about me.
And Mina just let it happen.
Or worse, she was in on the game.
How many times do I need to get my heart trampled before I fix this idealistic streak of mine? I’m a prime target for manipulators. First Blossom. Now Mina. I’m so ready to believe people are mostly good that all they have to do is pretend to be decent and I’m hooked. I even defended her to Dom when he was trying to keep me from making this very mistake.
Fuck!
I run my hands into my hair and pull.
I wish Nick were here…
The thought is a nuclear blast of anxiety. Nick’s lost. Maybe hurt or dying. Maybe already dead…
And here I am wishing he could make me feel better. How pathetic can you get?
I check my phone in case I missed a call or text with news, then toss the thing onto my coffee table when there’s nothing to see, only to pick it right back up to call Micah.
“What?” my cousin barks, just before the call goes to voicemail.
I lean forward, grimacing. Micah doesn’t bark greetings. “Wow. Okay. Hello to you, too.”
“What do you want Nathan?” Again with the clipped tone. Something’s crawled up his butt and made itself comfortable.
