The sound of a closed fist meeting my front door jars me awake. Disoriented, I squint my eyes in the dimly lit room. The bright neon numerals of the clock grab my attention: 4:37 p.m. Holy shit, I’ve been sleeping for over three hours.

Another knock and I fling the blanket aside. As I walk down the hall, I pull my hair into a messy bun and scrub the sleep from my face. Relaxing my shoulders a bit, I tiptoe through the glass and open the door, fully anticipating seeing Jesse standing in front of me—our fights are always short-lived—but what I get is Dave. An angry Dave, at that.

My heart sinks. Hi there, Expectation. Meet reality.

“Riley, where the hell—” His voice cuts off as his eyes drag across my skin like a heavy weight. “You look like shit. Are you okay?” His eyes dart to the broken dish. “What happened?”

I shrug and open the door wider, and he walks through. “Just woke up.”

His eyes snap to mine in anger. “Did you forget that we were meeting my parents at Le Bec for brunch?”

“Shit,” I grumble, trying to inject some remorse into my voice but failing miserably. “I completely forgot.”

His jaw ticks. “You forgot? That’s your excuse?”

I huff an annoyed breath. Sure, I forgot, and it’s a lame excuse, I know, but I told him I wasn’t ready to see his parents again. Dave and I only just started talking after his incident. Brunch with his parents felt too soon, too rushed. I wasn’t ready. Isn’t a girl allowed a little goddamned time?

“I had to lie to them. You know how I hate to do that.”

Still sour from my earlier fight with Jesse—my patience threshold has definitely been reached—I snap, “You do, do you?” I stalk down the hall back toward my bedroom and he follows. “Because last time I checked, you had no problem lying to me.”

“Jesus Christ, Riley. Are you never going to let it go? What do I have to do? I can’t spend the rest of my life apologizing for one mistake.”

The truth is I’m not that bothered by Dave’s infidelity, and I’m sure that’s some sort of sign, right? I should be more upset by the fact that he hooked up with one of his co-workers during a “business” trip, but I wasn’t nearly as devastated as I should be. Sure, my pride was hurt, ego a little bruised, but I always knew Dave wasn’t my Prince Charming.

Dave’s voice pulls me from my wandering thoughts. “I love you, Riley.”

My mouth drops open. He’s never said those words to me. Not even before the betrayal.

He turns me to face him, rests both hands on my waist, and squeezes. His voice is sincere, eyes wide and open, when he utters those same, dreadful words. “I love you.”

“I…” My voice stutters. “I-I’m…”

He squeezes again as though he can transfer his love into me and that somehow I’ll magically have the courage to say it back.

I squeeze my eyes shut. “I’m sorry.” I shake my head. “I’m not ready to say it back.”

He relaxes his grip. “Aren’t ready now or won’t ever be ready?”

My eyes find his for a moment before they flit away. “I don’t know.” A lone tear slides down my cheek. I’m so confused. I need time to sort through my feelings. I’ve been overwhelmed. With the move, and school, and Dave’s slip up, and now Jesse—I’m about to break.

He follows my gaze as it lands on the framed picture of Jesse and me, taken the day of our high school graduation. “Christ.” He shakes his head, as a low, dark chuckle escapes his lips. “I’m so fucking stupid.”

“What?” I turn to him, but he’s already stalking toward the nightstand.

“This!” His voice roars as he snatches the frame. “This!” He throws it onto the bed and it bounces twice before crashing to the ground. “This is about him, isn’t it?”

My eyebrows pinch together in confusion. “What does Jesse have to do with us?”

“Everything!” His voice booms. “Fucking everything. He comes first. Whenever he needs you, you go running. Just like last night.” His body shakes in anger. “I was supposed to stay over, yet you kicked me out so you could take care of him.”

My tone drops in anger. “He’s my best friend.”

“Don’t I know it! A best friend who is more important than anyone, even me.”

“He didn’t cheat on me!” I scream. “He didn’t hurt me! He loves me!”

“I love you!” He screams back. “I love you. But that doesn’t matter, does it? Because you’re in love with him.”

“That’s ridiculous.” I circle around to the opposite side of the bed to create some distance between us.

“Really?” His voice booms in the silent space. “You tell him you love him all the time. I hear your phone calls. I see the texts.”

“That’s different,” I defend.

He prowls around the bed, grabs my shoulders. “I screwed up one time. One fucking time, and we weren’t even technically together and I’m crucified. But Jesse? He’s a nobody, a college dropout who’s going nowhere, and yet you think he walks on water.”

Rage pumps through my veins. “Don’t talk about him like that.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t think I don’t notice the way he looks at you. When are you two going to grow the fuck up and stop playing this goddamn game?”

“We’re friends.” I wish my voice was stronger than it sounds, but Dave’s anger is starting to scare me.

“Admit it. Fucking admit it.” His words assault me as though they are physical blows.

Stunned, I remain rooted in place for several seconds without responding, but then the floodgates open and I’m screaming like an irrational, crazy person. “Get out. Get out. Get the fuck out.”

It’s my second no-holds-barred fight of the day, and my body is running on pure adrenaline. I chase him down the hall and slam the door before he’s fully into the hallway. When Dave leaves, I’m grateful. There’s no lingering sense of sadness. Or the desire to fix it.

It’s over. Done. And I am relieved.

I grab my phone from the table and check to see if Jesse has texted me.

Nothing.

I stalk back down the hall toward my room and crawl back into bed, pulling the covers up over my head. Maybe when I wake up tomorrow, everything will be better. It’s doubtful, but here’s to hoping.