Asa
Istare after India’s retreating figure, and though I’m physically here, still solid, my bones feel brittle. As if one careless touch will send me crumbling to the ground.
She’s gone.
Doesn’t matter that I can still see her, and within seconds I could catch up with her before she reached her car—she’s gone. She might as well be across the fucking country. Or vanished again. Lost to me.
Everything in me roars in protest, demands that I follow her now, not tomorrow. Not another goddamn minute. But I can’t. Even though I damn near tremble with the effort of not going after her, and my fucking bones ache with the need to do just that, I turn back to my best friend.
Because he’s owed an explanation. After years of loyalty, of unconditional love and acceptance, the very least I can give him is that—I owe him that. And if we are to walk away from each other with any semblance of a friendship, I need to try.
“Are you serious, Asa? Of all the women you could’ve fucked, why her? Why India?” Jessie rasps. “I know it’s a ridiculous question, but while you were getting your dick wet, did you think of me at all? Of our friendship and how you were blowing it up over a quick fu—?”
“Watch your mouth,” I snap. “You’re angry, and you’re justified. With me. Not her. But don’t expect me to stand here and let you disrespect her.”
“Oh, so you’re her knight in shining armor now?” he laughs, and it’s ugly, but there’s hurt, there’s confusion swirling beneath. “While you’ve cast yourself in the role of the great protector, did it occur to you to protect our friendship? I thought of you like a brother…”
He shakes his head, letting the rest of the sentence trail off, and my sternum constricts. I thought… Past tense. Pain bursts in my gut as if a phantom fist plowed into it. I’d expected Jessie to consider our friendship over. How couldn’t I? Still, hearing it… I drag in a low, deliberate breath, but each inhale is like swallowing glass.
“I’m still your brother, regardless of how you think of me,” I say, not shocked that my voice sounds like churned up gravel. “And to answer your question, yes. I always thought of you. Always. Which is why I kept my silence and my distance from India for years—including while you were with her. My love for you would never allow me to go there.”
He stares at me, eyes widening. For a moment, his lips work but no words emerge. Then he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “You wanted India when she and I…” When I give him an abrupt nod, he tunnels his fingers through his hair, fisting the strands. “You’re either a fucking fantastic actor or got a great poker face, because I never guessed.” His face hardens an instant later. “So what’d you do, wait until I fucked up to shoot your shot? Was it you who told her about that groupie?”
My chin jerks towards my neck, anger, and yeah, guilt swarming inside me like a drone of angry bees.
“You would say that to me?” Could he really think that of me? “Fuck no, I didn’t do that. Time for you to be honest, Jessie. That woman wasn’t the first one, and she for damn sure wouldn’t have been the last. Don’t play the injured party when you were screwing around on India for the last year of your relationship. You want to know why I started getting too busy to come to your games? Not because being there was too painful of a reminder of what could’ve been. No, it's because witnessing you fucking up the best thing that ever happened to you by falling into random pussy like it was a goddamn BOGO sale made me sick. And there I stood, willing to give my left nut for what you had. Not your career. Not your money. Not your health. Your woman.” I shake my head, loosing a harsh bark of laughter. “You were a fool. A fucking fool. But no, I didn’t tell her. One of your side chicks with ambitions of being the main one or hopes of being Instagram famous did that.”
A heavy silence falls between us because we’ve never discussed this. Never touched the topic of his infidelity, instead treating the incident that destroyed his relationship with India like a one-off, when we both knew it wasn’t. It was the visible tip of a large, hidden iceberg.
“But here’s the whole truth, Jessie. The night India found out you cheated on her, she came to me to see if it was true or not. She read it on my face and cried in my arms. We ended up kissing. But that’s as far as it went. Then I didn’t hear from her for two years, same as you. We didn’t become lovers until last night. And that was because of you. I rejected her two years ago, and I repeatedly pushed her away these last few weeks because of you. You, Jessie. My friend, my brother. Even though you treated your relationship like gum on the bottom of your shoe. But I’m through with that. I’m done.”
“What do you mean, you’re done?” He steps toward me, his hands curled into tight fists at his side.
His blue eyes flare with hot fury, and it should ignite fear inside me. Fear at losing him, our relationship. But there’s just sadness. And relief. Not relief over the fractures that have sprung between us that may never heal. God, never that. But relief, that I no longer have to live a lie. My feelings for India are a storm in my soul—one without an outlet. And they’re bruising me from the inside out. I want to… Why can’t I…
God, I just want to live out loud.
For me. Just once.
All my life, I’ve worked and lived for my mother, my family, for Jessie, and now for Rose. And not once have I regretted my choices. Not fucking once. I’d do it again.
But even when India wasn’t mine, in my heart, she was. And now, if she’ll have me, I want to be hers. No more wasting time. No more putting my life on hold for others. No more existing in fear.
“I mean,” I say, moving forward and clapping a hand on his shoulder. He flinches, jerking out from under my palm, and yeah, that hurts like hell, but I absorb it. “I mean, that I love you, Jessie, and I will always be your friend, whether you want to continue being mine or not. Everything you’ve meant to me, been to me, done for me… I’ll never stop being there for you. But I won’t deny how I feel about India any longer. It’s more than fucking or wanting. I need her. Rose does, too. And I’m not walking away from her. I refuse to end up another name on that list. Not when—”
“You love her.”
“Yeah,” I whisper. “Yeah, I love her.”
We stare at one another And I wish I saw acceptance or forgiveness in his eyes, his face. But I don’t. There’s pain, anger, even grief. But no, not forgiveness. I don’t know if I’ll ever have that from him. Or if we’ll ever be who we once were.
And I’ll have to find some way to be okay with that.
“I’ll guess I’ll head back to Connecticut,” he murmurs.
Pain slashes across my chest in deep red grooves. “Jessie.” I stretch out an arm. “Please, let’s go—”
“Not now, Asa.” He shuffles backward, hands up. His gaze shifts away from me as if he can’t stand to look at me any longer, and fuck if that doesn’t make me bleed harder. “I don’t know… when. But definitely not now. Tell Rose I said hi. If it’s cool with you, I’d still like to call her, check in on her. And your mom.”
“Of course, man. You know that. I’d never—”
“Yeah, I have to go.”
With that, he turned on his heel and strode away, leaving me alone in the steadily brightening morning. I wait until he climbs into his car and pulls away before pivoting and returning to my house where my niece sleeps. To my bedroom where my sheets still contain the scent of India and sex.
Sleep is a joke, and I cross to the window, watching the indigo slowly lighten to lilac and soft grey. It’s not lost on me that as day dawns, promising fresh beginnings, my oldest friendship ends.
But maybe, just maybe, it means the start of a new one.