“I’ve never known you not to be.”
“Well, considering I wasn’t honest with my best friend in the first place, I’d say the jury came back on that one and found me guilty.”
“You delayed the honesty but didn’t withhold it completely.”
“If only Amari bought that excuse. I’m going to have to beg for her forgiveness.” I can tell she’s desperate to get her best friend to not be mad at her. It’s evident in the way she keeps coming back to what she’ll have to do to fix things. I’m gutted at knowing that the one person Amari trusts can’t even comfort her right now because I involved her in all of this. I bet she feels betrayed by all of us.
“I’m sorry,” I repeat yet again. There’s a lot of shit I’ve done terribly and I’m apparently still bringing others down with me, even unintentionally.
“I think there’s a chance.”
“A chance she’ll forgive you?” I ask. I hope there’s more than a chance.
“A chance she forgives you,” she corrects, and her words make the pit I felt at the bottom of my stomach instantly disappear.
“Really?” I ask, trying not to sound too hopeful, but I know that I’m failing.
Emely mutters something under her breath. “I saw it in her eyes. She still loves you. I think it hurt her more that I knew before she did than that I knew at all. When you messaged me earlier and your name showed up on my phone, she couldn’t hide the jealousy in her eyes. It’s crazy that she’d be jealous because, well I have zero interest in you and think you’re an asshole. Still, her reaction showed me what I’ve always known. She loves you, always has. And now that she knows the reason you left her, which was stupid by the way…” she pauses.
“I know… I’m an asshole who makes stupid decisions.” I realize I should’ve done things differently.
“That you are… but for some reason my best friend still loves you…so there’s that.”
“There’s that!” I reply and if I weren’t on the phone right now I’d be jumping in my kitchen like a fifteen-year-old who just found out the hottest girl in his class likes him back.
“I gotta go. I’m almost at my aunts and then I’m going to call and message Amari a million times and beg for her forgiveness.”
“I guess we’ll both be doing that,” I tell her with a smile on my face.
“I’ll leave you with one warning and then I don’t want to talk to you again, at least not if, and until, you and Amari are good.”
“What’s that?”
“If you get her back,” she starts. Once I get her back, I correct in my mind. “You better not mess it up again.”
“When I get her back,” I can’t help myself from saying that out loud, “I’ll make sure I never make a dumb decision again. Trust me.”
“It’s not me that has to trust you, it’s her. But know that if you hurt her again, hell will seem like a far more pleasing place than where you’ll end up.”
“Noted. I’ll stop being an asshole,” I assure her.
“Great. Glad we agree on something. Have a good night.”
“Good night and good luck. I’m sorry again for putting you in that position.”
Emely hums her agreement and then hangs up. Approaching the stove, I shut off the macaroni we’re having again this week at Ari’s request.
“Daddy, why are you an asshole and what stupid decision did you make?” Ari’s voice comes out of nowhere, startling me and calling me out. How am I supposed to answer those questions?
The stupid decision I made was to lie, so this time I’ll opt for the truth.
What I gotta figure out now is how to break it to a six-year-old.
I guess I’ll start at the beginning.
24
AMARI
I wake up and want to ignore my phone because I know what I’ll find. Yesterday, I had to shut it off after ten missed calls and fifty text messages from Emely. I went through the work day ignoring her. Then, I got home and went straight to bed.
I wonder what the toll is up to today.
I don’t want to hear what she has to say. Then again, I know she loves me, so she probably didn’t mean anything bad by keeping the information from me. Emely wouldn’t do something she thought was bad for me. So, the only explanation for what she did has to be that she didn’t think it through.
Should I blame her for making a mistake? Then again, actions have consequences. She should’ve told me and the fact that she didn’t is a major violation of girl code or whatever. She owed it to our years of friendship to be honest with me.
What would you have done if she would’ve told you? My mind asks and I roll over in bed and scream into my pillow in frustration. I’m frustrated because I don’t know what I would’ve done if I knew earlier. What difference would it have made to hear it from her first or from him?
What are you really mad at? My mind keeps assaulting me with questions I do not want to answer, questions I do not have the answer to.
That’s a lie. The inner part of me knows the truth I don’t want to admit. The reality is that I’m not mad she didn’t tell me. I’m mad he told her first. Even if it was only a day ahead of when he told me everything. I still can’t believe that he finally told the truth he withheld from me from years but to her first. That he easily explained everything to her instead of me.
I scream into my pillow a second time before rolling over and getting up from the bed. What I need right now is a shower and some food.
Before I head over to the bathroom, I turn my phone on because it’s irresponsible to leave it off just because I want to ignore my best friend. Yes, I’ll still call her that because that’s what she is. I already know I won’t be mad at her forever. Just for now.
The moment my phone turns on fully, it’s like floodgates have opened as all the missed calls and messages come crashing through. I look through the missed calls and find twenty of them from Emely. As expected, she called the entire night, stopping at the wee hours of the morning.
The texts come in one at a time and eventually, I see the final number is 100 of them. Emely is nothing if not persistent and the number of voicemails, missed calls, and text messages show this.
I see a missed call from a number I don’t recognize and I wonder if it’s Emely calling me through someone else’s phone or if it’s a parent or teacher or something more important. The call came in at 9:00 am and seeing that it’s 10 am now, it’s possible that it could’ve been anyone. I consider whether I should return the call, but I can’t make up my mind. I decide that it’s better to figure that out after a shower. After I wash away the exhaustion from this week, from every day since I discovered Christian was still here in the place I left him before, but only after he left me first.
I get out of the shower feeling refreshed and the headache that was building finally disappears. Regardless of how mad I am at everything that’s taken place, I’m happy about one thing… the truth. It’s finally out.
Things would’ve been very different if Christian had looped me into what had happened long ago. Yes, it would’ve hurt to know that he was having a child with someone else, but I knew he had a past. I knew that he had lived a life and that he was a different person before he met me. Before he fell in love with me. He warned me about his past numerous times when I first started talking to him. When he realized I was falling for him, he told me I’d be better off focusing my attention on something else, someone else.
“I’m not worth it, Amari. You shouldn’t waste your time on a guy like me,” he said to me and I knew he meant every word. He seriously believed he was no good for me… everyone else did too, Emely included. But I knew he was better than that. I could see the sweetness he tried to hide with a serious face and standoffish demeanor.
I would’ve been upset if he told me about his child, but we would’ve worked through it. Those were actions he had taken in the past; the Christian I knew was different. He was better. One way or another, we would’ve figured it out. But maybe t
hat’s what he was afraid of. He did say that the reason he didn’t tell me was that he knew I’d give everything up to help him, that I wouldn’t chase my dreams because I’d follow him.
He was right.
The voice of reason again comes up and tells me and I can’t argue with it. I would’ve done anything and everything for him. He told me day in and day out that he didn’t deserve me, that I deserved better, so he made the choice for me that he knew I’d never make myself. Can I really be mad at him for that?
CHRISTIAN
I called her in the morning. I wanted to check in, make sure she was doing okay. I wanted to see if she had fixed her car. If she needed anything. I wanted to hear her voice. I even called her from the house phone so she wouldn’t recognize my number. Still, she didn’t pick up.
So, I did the next best thing.
Instead of insisting by calling her a second or third time, I swung by the auto body shop and picked up a car battery.
Shutting off my car, I park right behind Amari’s. I bet she hasn’t gotten the battery fixed yet. It’s only been two days after all. Getting out of the car, I grab the battery from the backseat then close the doors.
Every step I take closer to her door feels like I’m walking on glass. I don’t know what to expect, I don’t know if she’s even home. But I’m willing to give it all I’ve got. I won’t bring up her best friend though because I don’t want to make things worse. I want to make them better.
I ring the doorbell and wait with the battery in hand and my eyes closed.
“Christian?” the moment my name leaves her mouth my eyes open and I find her looking back at me with her eyebrows raised.
I smile at her. “Yes ma’am.”
“What are you doing here?” she asks, her hand still on the door. I bet she’s considering slamming it on my face.
Lifting the battery from my hand I respond, “Fixing your car.”
“No one said you had to fix my car,” she replies, letting go of the door and crossing her arms. My eyes travel her body and I allow myself to take her in. She’s wearing sweatpants and a hoodie. I know that hoodie.
“You’re wearing my hoodie,” I tell her, feeling like I’m on top of the world. If she’s wearing the sweater she took from me back when we started dating, that must mean something, right?
She opens her eyes wide then looks down at her shirt. “I didn’t… I must’ve…” she starts, finding it hard to formulate a response.
“It still looks good on you,” I tell her, my eyes focused on her as I take in her reactions.
She blushes. “Do you need the keys?”
“The keys?” I ask confused.
“To fix the car,” she replies, pointing at the battery, and I realize that’s her way of changing the conversation.
I give her a knowing look. I want her to know that I can tell what she’s doing right now. “Yup. The key would be nice,” I tell her. The sweater thing’s worked in my favor twice now. First, it shows me that Emely was right, I definitely have a chance. Also, it stopped her from fighting me on fixing her car.
She turns around and I hold my breath hoping she doesn’t end up shutting me out after all. I’m relieved when she doesn’t close the door. Instead, she disappears somewhere inside the house and I stand there at her doorstep waiting for her to come out. A few seconds later, she returns with the car keys in hand and the sweater gone. “I see you decided to forego the sweater,” I tell her, unable to stop myself from continuing to bring it up.
Her cheeks redden once again. I draw closer to her, feeling the pull I’ve never quite been able to fight against. Raising my hand, I bring it close to her face, wanting to feel her skin under my fingertips. She watches me intently but doesn’t stop me. Her eyes bounce back and forth between my own and my hand. I tuck a stray strand of her behind her ears. I don’t miss the flash of disappointment in her eyes when I lower my hand and I bite back another smile. I affect her still. And she definitely affects me.
I move my hand to hers and take the keys. “Seeing you in my hoodie reminded me of when I gave it to you,” I tell her.
“I don’t remember that,” she tells me, but I can tell she’s lying.
“You don’t?”
“Nope. I didn’t even realize it was your hoodie until you pointed it out,” she replies, ever the fighter.
“Well, I remember I had a football game,” I start. “I wanted you to wear my jersey.”
“That’s cheesy,” she says and I nod triumphantly.
“Funny you don’t remember because that’s what you said back then too. You said football players love when their girlfriends wear their jerseys as a way to show who they belong to and as a signal to others to back off. But that any girl could wear a player’s jersey. So, instead of wearing my jersey to the games, you wore my hoodie. Because only you would be wearing that. And you didn’t need a jersey to tell you that we belonged to each other,” I finish.
I don’t miss the way her eyes water. “Thanks for coming to fix the car,” she says then turns around and disappears into the house for a second time. This time, though, Amari doesn’t come back out.
I finish replacing the battery and knock at her door. Seconds later, she opens it. “Battery’s all set. I tested it. You shouldn’t have any troubles with it anymore.” I hand her the keys.
“I…um. I appreciate you coming to fix it.”
“That’s not the only thing I’m going to fix,” I tell her.
She extends her other hand to me and that’s when I see the hoodie she’s holding. “Here.”
Oh hell no. “What’s this?”
“Your hoodie,” she says. “Just thought you might want it back,” she adds.
I shake my head. “It’s not the hoodie I want back. It’s you.” With those words, I turn around and walk away.
25
AMARI
Applying the finishing touches on my makeup, I step out of the bathroom and into my bedroom.
“Your makeup looks gorgeous,” Emely tells me from my bed.
I roll my eyes. “Stop sucking up to me. I’ve already forgiven you.” I was mad at her for a whole two days before finally picking up her call and telling her I understood. She showed up at my house with chocolate and wine an hour later.
“I know… but I did really screw up. I thought you weren’t going to talk to me for years.”
“I thought I wasn’t going to talk to you for long too, but then you called me a million times, left me a billion voicemails and a trillion texts,” I tell her, searching through my closet for my dress.
“Damn, I was hella persistent,” she replies, and even though my back is turned to her, I can picture the knowing smile on her face.
“You were… and you were also not entirely wrong,” I tell her, grabbing the dress and walking toward the bed where she’s seated.
“Not entirely wrong about what?” she asks, and I can understand the confusion in her tone.
“You found out not long before I did and, while I expected you to tell me right away, I wasn’t really mad at you for not telling me.” When it comes to best friends, honesty is always the way to go, so I decide to be honest with my best friend.
“You weren’t?” She asks, but the look in her eyes shows me she already knows what I’m about to say. She knows me better than anyone.
I fix her with a look. “I was mad that you knew before I did. That Christian told you instead of me.”
She nods. “That’s what I figured.”
“Why did you give him a chance to explain, by the way?” I ask, sitting next to her on the bed. Emely isn’t the type of person who buys into anyone’s crap. She hated Christian when I first started dating him, she hated him even more when he broke me, so I wonder what made her so merciful. She isn’t known for second chances.
She moves from her place next to me and stands in front of me, instead kneeling down so I’m looking down at her. “You want me to be honest?” she asks, her hands on my knees.
“I’m kind of over people lying to me,” I tell her.
“You love him,” she tells me. It isn’t a question. There’s not an ounce of doubt in her voice when she utters those words.
“Okay.”
“He loves you,” she adds with the same confidence. This time though, I doubt it. I’m sure of what I feel, but I don’t understand how she can be sure of what he feels, I’m certainly not. It’s been six years.
I want you back, his own words come back to mind.
“Please don’t be mad at me again…” she starts and I prepare myself for what’s to come.
“But I know he loves you.”
“How though?” Has she been hiding more things from me? Has he told her anything else?
“When you kicked me out of your house, I talked to him. He asked if I thought he still had a chance with you.”
“He asked that?” I repeat, ignoring the part where she talked to him immediately after I’d gotten mad at her for talking to him in the first place.
“Yeah…” she says and I can tell she’s trying to tread lightly.
“And what did you say?” I ask, curious as to what her answer was.
She takes hold of my hands. “I said that I thought he did have a chance.”
That’s definitely not what I expected my spitfire best friend to say to him. “Why’d you say that?”
“Because I could see it in your eyes,” she says. “I still can,” she adds. I want to argue with that, but I don’t, and that gives her the opening she needs to go on. “He said he wouldn’t give up on you. That he wouldn’t let you slip through his fingers again. He said that he already made the mistake of letting you go once and that if there was a chance with you, he wouldn’t stop trying to get you back.” I want you back, again I’m assaulted by his words.
Like a balloon finally filling up with air, my heart swells up at the thought of Christian fighting to get me back. If he really said that, and I have no reason to doubt Emely since he said it to me too, if he still loves me, what does that mean for me, for us?
Just Because of You Page 12
