Page 22 of Don't Date Your Ex Best Friend
I kept my car keys in the bowl and went upstairs into my room to check any emails.I also researched for any volunteer work related to swimming.I told Elliot about it, and he said that his assistant would send me the list before evening.
Ignoring Aretta’s missed call, I took a quick shower and changed into sweatpants.My eyes went straight to the locked drawer in my closet.My jaw clenched and my pulse increased even thinking about it.
I shouldn’t.But I needed it right now.
It was as if her words, her diary had invaded deep into my brain, my heart and my soul, that I knew I would forever be tainted with the memories we had spent together.
With a heavy heart, I unlock the drawer and take her diary in my hand, already feeling the weight of her words on my body.I remembered the first time I read it on the flight from San Diego to New York.I had to rush to the washroom and puke out the breakfast I had.It was not because it was disgusting; it was because I had hated myself for not being the guy she could trust to tell me all about it.Later, I had realized that it was not my fault.None of it was.It depended on her, whether to tell me about it.We were just teenagers, high on love.
Taking a deep breath, I sat on the edge of my bed, my body already feeling stiff and foreign.I opened the old leather and flipped through the pages with blurred ink smattered across a few of the pages with her tears.I felt out of my body.As if I was nothing but a floating head in the room watching someone open the diary of his ex-lover because even after six years, he was not over her.
Will I ever get over Kiara Sharma?No, I won’t.She loved me, I loved her, and it was nothing but a hurricane and storm striking together, ruining each other in the process.I did not want to forget her.
She was my saving grace, too.
Even now, as I opened the diary entry that had made me puke six years ago in an airplane, her words cut deep in my heart, bringing tears in my eyes.I blinked them away and read the last line of that entry.
I pushed you away, but you stayed and now I wished I had stayed too.
For years, I had wanted the same thing, but I knew that it wouldn’t have helped her.She would have never been strong enough to talk to me about it, any of it.I hate it that she left so suddenly, but I knew she needed it.
I needed it too.
Closing the diary, I put it in the drawer and slammed it shut.I let out a sharp exhale and closed my eyes for a few moments.Just like every time I read one of her entries, I stalked her name on the internet.A small smile lit up my face when I read one of her interviews.
She was a teacher now.I chuckled thinking about Kiara Sharma, who had hated school for half of her life, teaching students, being their English teacher and grading essays.I remembered when I had seen her book, her debut novel, in the bookstore and bought it while I was in my last year of university.I was so proud of her I had finished it in two days.No wonder it was an International bestseller.
But then I read the acknowledgements and read how she wanted to thank young Kiara for falling in love with one of the best persons in this world.I was furious reading it, but it all died down in a few minutes.
I still had that copy in the same drawer.Locked away like a box of old memories.I would visit them like a nostalgic wounded lover in dark nights and early mornings, holding on to each page as if trying to figure out how she must have felt writing it down, pouring her heart out in blank pages.
Feeling overwhelmed, I called Emma and ignored the clipped warning from Elliot when I asked for her number.She picked up on the third ring, asking who it was.She was relieved when I said my name.
“How have you been?”
Words clogged my throat, thinking about large hands forcing her down, bruising her lips, icy fingers sliding down the skin.
I cleared my throat, “Are you okay?”
Emma didn’t reply for a while.“Yeah, I am.Thank you, Ethan, but don’t worry about it.”
Her voice was too firm, but I didn’t want to push her.“Okay.If you want to press charges against him, I have a lawyer who can help you.”
I heard her laugh, “No, Ethan Kane.I am not some big shot celebrity who can press charges on Richard Jane for manhandling me.Seriously, itisokay.He wouldn’t be the first guy to do that, and certainly not the last.”
“Emma.”
“Why do you care, anyway?”She sighed.“I am glad you stepped in that night, but it’s been two weeks.”
“I care because I saw how shaken up you were.”I paused and looked at my closed closet, where the diary was locked inside a drawer.“Something similar happened to a girl I once knew.”
“Oh.”She stayed silent for a while and asked, “Did she press charges against him?”
My silence was her reply.
“I am grateful for your support, Ethan, but I just want to forget it and move on.”
“Alright, Emma.As you wish.Take care.”
