“Is it that big of a deal?” Linda asks.
I love her. We’ve been friends since my first day at the advertising firm. She's refreshingly simple and direct. She says exactly what she’s thinking, which, by the way, is a complete contradiction to her work. She’s amazing at advertising. She’s one of those smart-as-shit people with a naïve personality.
“It kind of is,” I say as I sit at the lunch table with my coffee and water in front of me. Taking the lid off the coffee Linda brought me, I blow lightly on the steaming liquid and await their answers.
“Swear,” Linda says as she sits.
“Pinky swear,” Ashley says as she plops down next to Linda.
“Yes, you can have my firstborn,” Marcy volunteers. We all look her way. “What? I mean, when I have a firstborn.”
Everyone’s focus returns to me.
I take a deep breath and let it all out. “Last Thursday, the night before the flowers all showed up here,” I begin, “I went home early and found Jack with someone.”
“Like a business thing?” Ashley asks.
Marcy’s eyes widen, but she remains silent.
Linda’s jaw clenches as she stares my direction. “With?”
“With,” I confirm with a nod.
“And yet,” Marcy says, “I didn’t see you on my newsfeed for murder.”
I shrug. “Had I been thinking clearer…”
“Wait. What?” Ashley asks. “Jack? He what?”
Linda, Marcy, and I continue our conversation. “What did you do?” Marcy asks.
“I freaked the shit out. I left my engagement ring on the counter and called Marshal.”
Marcy leans back in her chair and nods. “Sweeter nectar.”
I close my eyes, deciding if I should share. Once I close my eyes, my mind is filled with Marshal's words of encouragement: the way he supported me at my parents' house, the way he filled me and surrounded me, the way he's never lied to me, and the way my core clenches at the emptiness that comes after his monster cock pulls out of me.
But…
I know.
Marshal is my friend.
I know I don’t want to lose that.
We made our agreement before we were even teenagers. We might have amended our agreement so that we now have benefits, but this situation won’t last forever.
This is Marshal Michaels.
He lives in theright now.
I refocus on Linda. She may be naïve, but she’s also the voice of reason. “…your parents…?”
I shrug again. “It seems as though they never really liked Jack. My dad apparently would have voted him off the island.”
Marcy’s eyes widen. “What island?”
Linda nods, going on as if Marcy hasn’t spoken. “He had an air.”