Page 13 of Friends That Heal Us
An hour later, we are sitting on her living room floor, our shoulders brushing against each other again. Our Chinese takeout spread all over the floor brings back memories of ournighttogether. It’s like a duplicate image of that night. I’m not sure why we chose the floor again; it just sort of happened.
Every time her shoulder bumps into mine, a wave of warmth rushes through me. It’s not lust. It’s something deeper, like my body remembers the feel of her that night. I just want to be close to her. Feel her again—all of her. The longing I had for her for so long is resurfacing.
The moment I found out she was marrying Zay, I knew all bets were off between us. So I buried my feelings so deep downthat even I believed we could only be friends…until that night. Then everything reopened and resurfaced, making my world spin faster than I could ever have imagined. I couldn’t think fully about what was happening or what I was doing. My heart tugged me one way, and my mind just let me go with it.
“So…” Vi says, glancing over at me. “Have you talked to Rya about all of this?”
I clear my throat, surprised she’s asking. I know we should talk about all of this since it involves us.
“Yeah,” I answer, glancing her way. Her brown eyes catch my attention. Her eyes always drew me to her. In the sun, they go lighter, more like a honey brown. They’re beautiful. I’ve never seen an eye color change like that. “She admitted everything.”
Vi turns her gaze away from me. I reach up and place my hand on her shoulder. “Hey.” She turns to me with a small grin on her face, but I can see the hurt behind her eyes. The hurt she’s been trying to hide. “Do you want to talk about this now?” I ask.
She nods her head. “I feel like we need to move on.”
“I do too,” I say, leaning my back against the couch, pulling her to my chest. The smell of her vanilla scent lingers as I breathe.
“When did it start?”
I freeze at her question. “Have you not talked to Zay about it?”
She shakes her head. “No. I was so pissed all I did was shove the papers into his chest. Then blocked his number.”
“He hasn’t tried to come over here to see you?”
“Nope.”
Fucking Zayn. If it were me, I would try to fight for my marriage. I’d be doing everything I could to fix what I broke. He was in the wrong, but how could he leave it like that? As if nothing happened.
“So you haven’t seen him or talked to him since the day you found out?” I ask in disbelief.
“Nope. When I came back home, I saw some of his clothes were missing, so I knew he had packed a bag and left.”
I shift my body trying to understand what the hell is wrong with him. This isn’t the Zayn I—we—grew up with.
“Remember the night in Vegas when you got too drunk, and I took you back to the hotel because those two didn’t want to come back?”
She lifts her head from my chest, wide-eyed. “They fucked that night?”
I nod.
Her head shakes uncontrollably. “I can’t believe it. We had sex in the club that night.”
My lip curls in disgust. Not at Vi herself, but at the act itself. The whole thing is so wrong.
She turns her head, and I get a glimpse of her glossed-over eyes. “Don’t cry, Vi. We don’t have to talk about this.”
“No. I need to. I need to know everything so I can move on. I was lied to for so long that I can’t have the truth withheld from me anymore. I just can’t. I need to know everything.”
I wipe the tear trailing down her face, my fingers brushing against the warmth of her rosy cheeks.
“What else did she say?”
“She said it only continued because Zay would threaten her that he was going to tell us if she wouldn’t have sex with him again, which I don’t find true at all.”
A snort comes out of her as she covers her mouth. “Oh my god, she’s fucking ridiculous. I read their text messages. That’s not true. She’s just as to blame as he is. Do you want to read them?” she asks, sitting up taller.
“No, I’m good.”
