Chapter 37 - Valerie
I’m stuck between my best friend and the one man I feel a true connection with. Emma is here, comforting me, but I can’t listen to her. If I go back to Clay, Emma is hurt. She’s been my best friend for years and I can’t imagine my life without her in it. If I don’t talk to Clay…. I can’t even finish the thought. I feel like I’m on the edge of an abyss whenever I think of my life without him. We’ve only known each other a few weeks but I’ve never been so happy, so complete.
I feel a sharp pang of jealousy every time I think about Clay and Emma sleeping together. She told me they had a connection. It’s like a stinging pain in the depth of my chest when I think about him having a connection with someone else.
I try to think about it rationally. At the end of the day it was before I ever met Clay, not that it makes me feel any better. I’d rather just never think of him with another woman ever, let alone my best friend.
He and I have been inseparable ever since we met. If I could just talk to Clay, if he would just be completely open with me, I think I could get past him and Emma sleeping together. It was a one night stand, after all.
I look at Emma and think of how hurt she was when he didn’t call her back. She liked him, even after one night. Maybe that’s all that’s going on with me too. Maybe this crazy connection I thought we had is nothing more than me falling for his charms.
But then I think about laying together in bed with our arms and legs intertwined and our bodies closer than possible, talking about nothing and everything. I think about the way he cooked me a romantic rooftop meal when he’d known me for three days. Surely that counts for something?
I wonder if she would forgive me if I wanted to be with Clay. Would she stand between us? She’s always had my best interests at heart, but then again I’ve never been interested in the same man as her. I would be heartbroken if this ruined our friendship.
He couldn’t even say anything in the restaurant, couldn’t explain or defend himself or even tell me that he cares about me. He just stood there like a statue and a guilty, shocked look on his face. The tears prickle at my eyes again and now I’m crying. Heaving, shuddering sobs rip through my body. Emma wraps her arms around me and I cry on her shoulder.
I pull away and look at her, trying to search her face for answers.
“Emma, thank you for bringing me home. I think I’d like to be alone now.”
She looks at me and I can’t tell if she’s hurt or understanding. Her face crumples but she nods and leans in for one more hug. We stay like that for a few long seconds and I cry into her shoulder a little bit more.
“Is there anything I can do before I go?” She says into my hair.
“No, thank you.”
She gathers her things and gets ready to leave. When she gets to the front door she pauses and then turns around and comes back to sit beside me. She takes my hands in hers and looks me in deep in the eye. I desperately don’t want this to come between us. She’s sitting there like she’s about to break up with me and the thought of our friendship ending over something like this makes my heart hurt even more than it was before. I can’t lose both of them, not at once, not today. Finally she opens her mouth to speak.
“Val, I care about you. You’re my best friend.” She pauses, and I look at her through tear-filled eyes, waiting to hear what she wants to tell me. “I’ve never seen you like this, not even when you and Bryce broke up. Even then, you weren’t this upset. You were more resigned and a bit relieved.”
She takes a deep breath and looks down at the floor beside me, studying my rug like it’s the most interesting rug in the world. When she looks up her eyes are filled with tears and I feel my heart heaving.
“Look, at the end of the day, what you and Clay have seems to be special. I saw the way he looked at you before he saw me. He didn’t even see me at the table until I said something.”
The tears are streaming down her face and I can’t help but cry as well. I’m sick of crying, but it feels good to cry together. If she could see it too, then maybe it was really there. Maybe Clay does care about me the way I care about him. We’ve only just met but the connection we have is different, deeper.
“Val, I,” she hesitates, looking away from me again. “I was jealous at the restaurant. I saw the guy who rejected me and he was all starry-eyed for you. I hate to say it but I was jealous. And now I’m seeing you in so much pain and I can’t, I won’t be the person who does this to you. I care about you and I know how you’ve been talking about him, how much he seems to mean to you even after such a short amount of time. I think that a connection that strong shouldn’t be thrown away. He and I hooking up was a one night stand, and at the end of the day it meant nothing. I thought we had a connection but all we had was a fleeting mutual attraction. He never looked at me the way he was looking at you. Not even close”
I’m crying for real now, sobbing as she talks to me. Her words are like a healing balm. She saw it too, she saw the connection between Clay and I. I’ve always been able to count on Emma and once again I’m glad to have her as a friend. She looks completely composed, except for the tears streaming down her face. Her red lipstick is somehow still perfect.
“I could sit here and tell you he’s a jerk and a user and forget about him, but I don’t think that’s true. I saw the way you guys looked at each other and I think it’s too rare to just toss it away. You should talk to him and see what he has to say. It’s rare to meet someone that you click with, it’s worth giving it a shot.”
She stops talking and looks at me with her tear-stained cheeks face. I love this girl so much. I lean over and give her another hug, burying my face in her curls. She wraps her arms around me and I can feel that she’s trembling. In her arms I stop sobbing and squeeze her a bit closer. We pull apart and I look at her face.
“Emma,” I start. “Thank you.”
She shakes her head and I stop talking.
“Val, I’ve seen you suffering for the past four years with that asshole Bryce. I’m not going to be the one who makes you suffer more by standing in the way of you and a guy who seems to genuinely care about you. I’m not saying jump back in his arms but just know that I support you no matter what.”
I nod, the words catching in my throat. The relief I feel is immense. I’m not going to lose a friend and a lover. I have a chance.
“Plus,” she says, wiping her eyes and looking at me. The corner of her red lips are curling up into a grin. “I would never be the one who stands in the way of those earth-shattering orgasms you’ve been having.”
My sobs turn to ugly, sobbing laughter and she laughs along with me. She grabs a tissue and hands it to me. I wipe my face off as best I can and Emma gives me another hug.
“I’m going to go now. You’re my best friend Val, I’m not going to lose our friendship over some guy.”
I’ve never been more glad to have Emma as a friend. She grabs her bag and heads towards the door. Her curly head disappears and she closes it softly behind her. I lay back on the couch and close my eyes, breathing deep. I don’t know what to think.
I get up slowly and peel off my clothes. I get in the shower and turn it on as hot as I can stand. I stand under the steam and water and let it wash me clean. My mind clears as I wash myself from head to toe, taking my time.
Stepping out of the shower, I dry myself off and wrap my hair in a towel. I grab my housecoat and wrap it around me, snuggling into its fresh warmth. I feel better. I dry my hair with the towel and hang it up, going over to the kitchen to make myself some more tea. I’ll take the afternoon and evening to myself to watch a movie and order some pizza. I look at my phone on the coffee table. Maybe I’ll text Clay, if I work up the nerve.
I just need some time to calm down. I need to breathe, and process what’s been going on.
Just when the kettle starts boiling I hear a knock on the door. I wrap the housecoat around me tighter and tie it off at the waist. I walk to my front door and open it.
“Hey,” he says. His eyes are rimmed red and his clothes are crooked, his hair dishevelled.
“Clay,” I say, still in shock. “What are you doing here?”