“Can we go somewhere to talk? I don’t want to see Bishop right now.”
“Yeah.” I clear my throat, gesturing to the long hallway. “We can find somewhere in this creepy fucking house.”
She laughs, but tears are falling down her cheeks. Shit.
We continue down the hallway in silence. My legs feel like jelly from the alcohol, and now that she’s here, I regret being reckless even more. I had a weak moment.
I turn into the first room I see and flick the light on after searching aimlessly on the wall for the switch.
The light turns on in a blaze and suddenly we’re met with a large office. Floor to ceiling bookshelves line the back of the desk and a large leather seat tucked behind it tidily. I can almost smell the dust particles in the air.
“I wonder if this place ever gets used?” I think out loud.
Madison’s eyes fly around the room, panic setting in. “This is Luce’s office.” She backs up, but then her eyes slam closed as she shuts the door behind herself.
“I need to talk to you,” she murmurs instead.
“Finally,” I answer, treading deeper into a room I most definitely should not be in.
Madison’s eyes fall to the corner behind me, and I turn to see what she’s looking at, finding the alcohol cabinet. “I’ll need something strong first.”
I don’t fight her, and I don’t fight her again when she pours the amber liquid into two glasses instead of just her one.
She passes one to me and takes a seat beside me on the brown leather two-seat sofa that’s on the opposite side of the room.
She takes a swig. “Bishop and I—we’re not together.”
I choke on my drink. “What?!”
She takes another drink. “Yep.” Then she stands, making her way toward the alcohol cabinet, taking the whole glass bottle this time before coming back to join me.
“Why?”
She pours more into her glass. “Number of reasons, but mainly…” She sinks more of the booze. “I fucked up.”
I shake my head, shooting back my drink in one go and reaching for the bottle. “That’s not allowed. You two are it. You’ve always been perfect for each other!”
“—Really?” Her eyes come to mine, and it’s the first time that I see how deep her pain really is. How have I missed this before? I’ve been a terrible friend. I feel guilty instantly.
She laughs quietly. “I don’t know. I’d take what you and Nate have in a heartbeat.”
I choke on my drink again—only for different reasons this time. “Why would you—what the fuck, Mads. No. We are—no.”
“You are what, Tillie? You are his world. Everything begins and ends with you. He doesn’t hold secrets from you. You are a big part of this world, they all fucking love you—I damn well envy you.” She sighs, burying her face in her hands. “I know that’s pathetic. I know that I love Bishop and he loves me, but sometimes love isn’t enough to get through, you know?”
“Yes, I do know, but not when it comes to you. Jesus, Madison, what happened? Also, don’t be ridiculous about Nate. He hates me. He has been cruel to me for months since I came back, and it got worse when—” I stop, snatching the glass bottle and pouring more into my glass. I’m not done having my weak moment. “Anyway, no. We’re nothing to be envied.” Nothing to be envied at all. Maybe we had a chance before, but since we both lost someone we loved so much, love isn’t what we’re feeling right now. All love does is remind us of what we’ve lost.
“I mean it when I say you will both work. The only thing that’s stopping you from being together is both of you being so stubborn—”
“—That’s not all, Mads. We will never work. We’re too toxic. Anyway, this isn’t about Nate and me, it’s about you and Bishop.”
“Right!” Madison sighs, massaging her head. “I cheated on him.”
“—What!” I rear off the sofa, dropping the glass to the carpet. I’m about to swear at her when she shakes her head.
“Stop, let me finish.”
“Madison…”
I’ve always been very envious of how Bishop has been loyal to her all along. He’s not a ho like Nate and I’ve always envied that.
“How could you!” I whisper, shaking my head.
Bishop.
“It’s not that simple to explain, Tillie. I didn’t—he didn’t—I tried to—” She pauses, her eyes coming to mine, rimmed bright red. “He raped me.”
I freeze. Anger crashing over me in violent waves. My fingertips zap with rage. “What?”
She’s a sobbing mess now, swiping the tears from her eyes angrily. “I’m so mad that I’m letting this affect me still—to this day. I can’t help it…”
I haven’t moved. My limbs are rock solid. I don’t want to move. I want to smash things. I want to rage. The first thing that comes out of my mouth, though, is, “Does Bishop know?” Because if he does and is blaming this on her, I don’t know and won’t be responsible for my actions.