One Big Mistake: a friends to lovers rom-com

by Whitney Barbetti

  “Do you not trust me or something?”

  “It’s not about that,” she insisted. “Jade stabbed someone’s freaking tire tonight and was basically held hostage until it was paid for. If you didn’t have that kind of cash on you, she might be in jail right now. And I wouldn’t know until it was too late.”

  “Well, that’s a moot point, because I had the cash on me.”

  She rose from the floor and went into the kitchen. Had she really just walked out on our conversation? But she returned a minute later and thrust a wad of bills toward me. “I only have one-hundred and sixty on me. I’ll get the rest.”

  I looked at her like I didn’t even know her. Because right then, it felt like I didn’t. Navy was passionate and full of love, but this Navy in front of me was quiet and calm and avoiding my eyes, and I wanted to shake the life back into her.

  “Take it,” she said.

  I backed up. I wanted Navy close to me, but not like this. “No. I don’t give a fuck about the money. I’m trying to have a conversation with you.”

  “Just take it, Keane. I’m tired.”

  “Are you kicking me out?”

  Her eyes focused steadily my face. “Yes.”

  “So, that’s just it? We’re not going to figure this out?”

  “There’s nothing to figure out, Keane. I’m upset. I’m upset that my sister felt like she couldn’t turn to me when she was in trouble. I’m upset that my other sister was asked to lie to me by my best friend. I’m upset that you didn’t stop tonight to let me know what was going on. I’m upset that you brought my other sister to a store in a town I’d specifically kept her from and now people know she’s here. And I can’t be rational right now. I can’t talk to you like this.”

  I huffed. “You seem pretty fucking rational right now. And you can’t talk to me right now? You haven’t talked to me in weeks. Not really, and you know it.”

  “I’m tired,” she said. “I’m so sick and tired of all this bullshit. I know, you thought you were protecting me, but I don’t need you to protect me. I need you to be honest with me. This, our friendship, can’t work if you can’t tell me the truth.” She swallowed. “When I told you I had a crush on you, I respected you so much for letting me down gently. You didn’t try to protect me—you told me the truth.”

  Looking at her, I could see her at fifteen, eyes warm as she’d told me about her crush. And I’d been careless in how I handled it. Because looking at her now, eight years later, with that pain in her eyes—pain I’d put there—was like driving a spike through my heart. “I was stupid when I said that.”

  “No, you weren’t. We are better as friends, Keane. Can’t you see that? When we crossed the line, we muddied the waters. You stopped being honest with me and instead tried to protect me and my feelings.” She paused. “Like a boyfriend would. But I didn’t ask that of you. I want to count on you to tell me the truth, always, even when you think it’ll hurt me. And today, when Jade was in a bad situation, you swooped in and rescued her. But it could have been worse.”

  I couldn’t believe this. “So you’re more worried about the what-ifs than what actually happened?”

  “Next time, that what-if might be a reality. One of my sisters might make a bigger mistake than they did this time and if they go to you instead of to me, I might not be able to help them.” She opened the front door and looked pointedly at me.

  Jesus. I couldn’t believe that tonight had turned out this way. “You want the truth, Navy? I don’t give a fuck if you would rather me hurt you than protect you. As your best friend, I want to protect you. As someone who—” I paused, nearly blurting out the words that I didn’t want to deliver at this moment, “has feelings for you, I’ll face anything that could bring you to your knees—for you. Because that’s what any sane person would do if they cared for you.” I felt a hitch in my throat and anger-laced pride spurned me on. “I’m sorry your parents let you down. I’m so fucking sorry that your first memories are tainted by instability. That you had to grow up so quickly. I’m sorry,” I said, framing her face in my hands. I needed to anchor myself to her, to get this through her head. “I’m sorry,” I repeated, “that I fucked up. I royally fucked up. I shouldn’t have taken your sister into town. I don’t have an excuse for it. I shouldn’t have asked her to lie to you.” She shrugged out of my hold, and selfishly I wanted to grab her, hold her like she was the only thing keeping my heart beating when it felt like it was fucking breaking. But she’d backed away and all I could do was stare into her eyes and keep my words steady even when I felt like my entire world was crumbling. “I’m sorry you’re hurt that I lied to you. But I’m not sorry for trying to protect you tonight. I’d do it again. And again. And again, Navy.”

  “Even though I’ve told you I don’t want you to?”

  “Yep.” I didn’t care if it made me sound like an asshole. On this, I wouldn’t budge. “I can’t make you a promise that I won’t ever try to protect you.”

  She walked up to me, stopped, and then slipped the cash she’d been holding in my pocket. She backed away, and just like that my heart crumbled in my fucking chest. “Goodnight, Keane.”

  She walked away from me, away from the door, and stared at me like she didn’t know who I was anymore.

  I wasn’t ashamed to admit that it broke me. It was like I was losing two of the most important people in my life, but it just so happened that they were one and the same person. And I didn’t realize how much I needed this person until this moment, the moment she was about to slip from my grasp. I’d taken it for granted.

  I walked on the front stoop and paused to turn and look at her straight in her eyes. I wanted to make sure she heard me clearly. When I spoke, I kept my voice strong even as I was crumbling apart inside. “You want a promise that I can keep, Navy? Fine. You’re not going to get rid of me this easily. I promise you that.”

  I pulled the cash she’d given me from my pocket and tossed it on the table by the door.

  And then I shut the door.

  26

  NAVY

  After he left, I sat on the floor for a long time until I was so tired that I laid down there, right on the carpet. It wasn’t comfortable, but it was the smallest inconvenience in comparison to how my heart hurt. I just didn’t think I had it in me to stand back up and then trudge up the stairs.

  I stared at the door for a long time, waiting for Keane to come back, give me that smile I loved so much, to tell me it was all a mistake. But it was my fault he walked out. Because I was too afraid to talk about my feelings. And in doing so, I’d caused myself the worst pain of all.

  I didn’t refuse to talk to him the way he wanted because I was embarrassed. No, I refused to talk to him because I was afraid of what he’d say, of what we could be if we gave it a chance. Because of what might happen to our friendship. But in refusing to talk to him, I’d caused damage—irreparable damage—to our friendship.

  A hot tear leaked out of one of my eyes, coming to rest in the hollow of my ear. And then another followed the same track, and another. I closed my eyes, to keep them from coming, but that didn’t stifle the flood at all.

  How had things gone wrong so quickly? I thought of what he said—calling me a martyr. He’d called me that once before, the night I’d told him Violet was pregnant. Was I one though? I guessed martyrs didn’t recognize themselves as one.

  But it didn’t matter. What mattered is that my best friend had just walked out that door and I hadn’t stopped him. I thought of every man I’d ever dated before. I didn’t need to think too hard to know that leaving those relationships had never hurt like this did. This was an ache unlike any other; as if I had traveled this windy, messy road with someone and suddenly they left me to navigate the rest of the journey alone. I didn’t want to be alone. I wanted Keane.

  My mouth opened and the noise that came out didn’t sound human. I rolled onto my side, my arms around my middle, and cried until I fell asleep.

  The next evening, I wai
ted in baggage claim for Aunt Isabel’s arrival. I was nervous, but not as nervous as I’d expected. The secret was too heavy to keep carrying so when my aunt called me on her layover, I told her about Violet. There’d been a lot of tears on my end, a lot of silence on her end, and a promise from us both to figure it out when she landed.

  But even as she walked through the arrival doors, even as she held me and rubbed my head, I couldn’t hold it together. I was miserable, heartbroken, devastated. I’d always wanted to be enough for my sisters, because I never felt like I’d been enough for everyone else. But the last three weeks had taught me that I was one person, and that person was not equipped to deal with this kind of stress without help.

  I wanted to talk to Keane. It’d only been twenty-four hours, but it felt like months. I stared at my phone, as if I could will him to message me first, to break the seal we’d folded over our friendship. I loved him. God, I loved him. Not just as my protector, not just as my Sunday movie buddy, but as my everything else. There wasn’t a moment of my day that I didn’t want to share with him. But I knew I’d hurt him. I’d been selfish in my desire to protect my sisters—wanting to prove something to myself. But I hadn’t needed to prove anything.

  “Oh, it’s okay,” my aunt hushed at my ear as she held me. I inhaled her familiar rose perfume and the smell of a shampoo that must have been new. “We will go see Violet tomorrow,” she said before pulling away from me. She waited until we looked at one another in the eyes. “We’ve been through a lot, my little baby. We can get through this.”

  I swallowed the lump and stepped back so she could embrace the twins. Like me, they were teary, with wobbly chins, so I took the moment to just observe them. This was my heart—my blood—my everything. My eyes watered, spilled over, and I didn’t bother to wipe any of the tears away.

  I needed to be better about being there for my sisters—not just in tough times but good times too. I needed to take a backseat, to pick my battles. It would be hard, but it was the only way we were going to survive the next few years.

  My heart thundered in my chest as Jade held Aunt Isabel longer than Rose or I had. Jade was right, I didn’t know her bond with our aunt. I’d been foolish to ever worry about my aunt sending us away. We were more her daughters than nieces. We were blood of her blood, but also we were her sweat, her tears, and her pride over the years. She was more of a mother than ours ever could be. My chest filled with gratitude, with faith that I hadn’t understood before. She hadn’t abandoned us all of the other times when we’d been bratty and confused and needy. She wouldn’t now. She’d handle Jade’s shenanigans, just like she’d handled everything else we’d thrown at her over the last fifteen or so years.

  “Come on,” Aunt Isabel said, kissing Jade’s hair as she swiped at her own tears. She gave us all a watery smile and wrapped an arm first around Jade and then another around Rose, before escorting us to baggage claim.

  “Where’s your man candy?” Rose asked, looking over her shoulder.

  “You sound like your sister,” Aunt Isabel said, giving me a knowing wink. After a moment of silence, she added, “I got bored of him.”

  It took a second to register what she’d said, Jade’s mouth forming a wide O and Rose holding out her hand for a high-five. “Daaaamn, Auntie,” Rose said.

  “Language,” Aunt Isabel admonished her gently, and Jade and I exchanged small smiles.

  After we got home, I debated staying another night at my aunt’s house with her and the twins. But I needed a night in my bed, and I needed my friend to bounce thoughts off of. So when I walked through the door of the apartment I shared with Hollis, I set my bags on the ground and stepped right into her waiting arms. I didn’t cry this time, but mostly because I was dehydrated from doing it so much.

  “Oh, Navy. I’ve never seen you like this.”

  Okay. I lied. I wasn’t nearly as dehydrated as I thought. The tears fell. “I don’t know what to do, Hols.” I was so full that I wanted to purge all these feelings, evict them from the space they’d carved into my chest. “I made such a mess of things. I pushed him away. I wouldn’t blame him if he hated me.”

  Hollis rocked me back and forth as she rubbed my back. “He doesn’t hate you. He couldn’t. He’s hurting too.”

  “I want to message him. I want to apologize. But I don’t know how to.”

  “But you do, Navy. You know how to say sorry. You know how to reach him. You’re afraid. Your heart is pure. But you run from confrontation.” She let go of me, bracing her hands on my shoulders so I looked her square in the eye. “Keane knows that. Give him time to think.”

  I hastily wiped my tears away with the sleeve of my sweater. “I’m afraid if I give him too much space, he won’t come back.”

  Hollis tsked. “He’s not your mom. He’s not your dad. Give him more credit, Navy.”

  She was right. It was easy for those thoughts to roll off my tongue so automatically, but if I stopped to think rationally, I knew Keane wouldn’t leave me for good. But that thought gave me little solace now, when I was missing him like I would miss the grounding, steady beat of my own heartbeat. Keane wasn’t responsible for pumping blood to my lungs, but I couldn’t breathe as well without him. As if something sat on my chest, placing a consistent amount of pressure that replaced the weight of his presence in my life.

  “It was fear talking,” I admitted. “It’s easy to believe someone would walk away from me, when people have before.”

  “Of course it is.” She rubbed a hand down the side of my head and held my hand as we walked upstairs to our bedrooms. “But anyone worth your love would be there in the heaviness, would hold your hand through it.” She squeezed mine. “Give it a few days. When your head’s clear, you both can talk through this and figure out where you go from here.”

  She waited until I was settled in my bed to leave me. “I’ll be downstairs a bit longer.”

  I could only nod. I took in my bedroom, my eyes landing on every poster on the wall, on every photo I’d lovingly framed and found a home for. My sheets were cleaned—thanks to Hollis—and my entire body relaxed into the mattress like it was a warm hug.

  Feeling sleep overtake me, I rolled to my side and sleepily looked out my window. Just beyond, the moon shone brightly, steadfast in its position in the sky. Wherever Keane was, physically and emotionally, I knew the same moon peered down upon him. I just had to hope that we’d both find our way back to one another.

  Aunt Isabel insisted on going to the cabin the next day to see Violet for herself. The twins came along too, and as they all caught up down by the lake, I stayed inside the cabin.

  Keane wasn’t around, something which hurt and also relieved me. Such contradicting feelings, it was a wonder that I had the space for both of them within me. But if I had the space to love Keane as a friend and fall in love with him as a soulmate, I supposed my heart could hold space for more than one feeling at a time.

  Keane had made a lot more changes in the nine days since I’d last been to the cabin. A new stove was in, the sink had a new faucet, and a new built-in pantry had been added. I glided my hands over the polished doors that he’d stained to match the rest of the kitchen. My fingers tested the bronzed knobs. He’d invested so much of his time here, but his heart too. It was in every small detail, including the fishing rod he’d recently dusted and mounted above the window that faced the water. The rod had belonged to his Gramps, and now it belonged to this place that held a piece of his heart.

  I walked into the bedroom Violet had been staying in, taking in the bedding I’d purchased, and the filmy curtains Violet had put up on the windows. This room was definitely more feminine than Keane would’ve styled it, but somehow the white and the lace melded with the logs in the cabin, making it a dreamy, romantic space.

  I entered the room that had been intended for the baby and stopped before I made it more than a foot.

  Keane had begun painting, a pale yellow all over three of the walls. The fourth wall was striped
white and yellow and there was a little navy-blue bear on the ground with a big yellow ribbon around its neck and I didn’t know why, but I suddenly burst into tears. Violet didn’t have access to a car. She wouldn’t have bought this paint, or the bear. Keane had done that and judging by the smell of the new paint, it was recently done. Oh, why did that just cleave my heart into two?

  I picked up the bear, fingering its yellow bow, sloppily done—like the unfortunate-looking bow ties he’d attempted for all our formal high school dances. Bows I’d fixed on the car rides to the dances. I ran my finger over the satin, thinking of Keane and only Keane.

  “He got that for me,” Violet said from behind me. I had been so wrapped up in the room that I hadn’t heard her come into the cabin.

  I turned, still holding the bear. “Oh?”

  “Yesterday.”

  I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat as I stared down at the bear. The day after I’d kicked him out. It didn’t surprise me that Keane hadn’t been unkind to Violet after my fight with him—he was a good man. It had surprised me that he’d thought to buy a navy-blue bear for my sister the day after I’d hurt him.

  Heartbreaks weren’t reserved for lovers. Friendships could cause them too.

  I held the bear close to my chest, giving it the hug I wanted to give Keane and then turned to hand it to Violet. “The color in here is pretty. The yellow.”

  “I told Keane to choose a paint color besides the colors of our names.” She gave me a small smile and looked at the bear. “But this bear was a surprise. He bought the ribbon for it too; told me he wasn’t sure if the bear would match the room without it.”

  “It’s cute,” I said, barely holding it together. I knew there were tear stains on my face, but Violet didn’t press me for the reason. Which told me she’d sensed something from Keane too. I didn’t think my heart could hurt after I’d inflicted so much damage upon it already, but it was just another press to a bruise that hadn’t yet healed.