My heart felt like it was wrapped in tight coils of thorny vines, each one slowly squeezing the life out of me. I barely remembered anything after Dorian’s accusation, but somehow ended up back home. I was still technically on the clock at work, but I didn’t care. When I remembered to, I sent off a quick text to Earl saying I’d started vomiting and wouldn’t be back for the rest of the day. After all the extra time I'd put in over the last month, I doubted he'd complain.

Mikala ran to the door when she heard me open it. “Mommy!” she shouted. “You’re home early!”

Tiffany followed her to the front door, eyes widening with concern as they settled on me. She swore under her breath as she wrapped me in a hug, making me wonder if I looked that bad. Nevertheless, I was grateful for the comfort. I squeezed her and Mikala, burying my nose into my daughter’s hair and inhaling her clean, innocent scent. I loathed the thought that one day somebody would make her feel like this. I would do everything in my power to prevent that from happening, but life was a cruel bitch. Even if I could stop her from getting screwed over by an asshole like her father, I knew she’d get her heart broken eventually. And that made my own heart ache even more.

“Why don’t we go back to watching our movie for a bit?” Tiffany suggested to Mikala. “Mommy can come too. She’s had a long day, and I'm sure she'd love to just snuggle with you for a while.”

I gave Tiffany a teary, appreciative smile and mouthed my thanks. She merely nodded, her eyes telling me that she'd wait to ask the questions buzzing around in her head.

After we finished the movie, Tiffany and I made dinner together. We still didn’t talk about what was bugging me, but Tiffany didn’t have to work that night so we could put it off until Mikala went to bed. Not for the first time, I was grateful for my friend. I didn’t like the idea of being alone with my own thoughts.

As we cooked and ate, Mikala filled in the gaps in conversation with exciting stories about her day and all the cute little observations about her life that kids her age were prone to. My baby had a vast imagination, so hers were often entertaining and funny, but today I couldn’t find it in me to do more than smile.

Tiffany was on me as soon as I’d tucked Mikala in and read her story. I motioned for Tiff to follow me back to the living room. Her concerned expression had matured into outright worry over the course of the evening. And if I had to guess, my depressed expression had dipped into the sort of heartbroken weariness that came with admitting that I should have listened to my gut and never gotten involved.

“Wine?” she asked.

I nodded. “Please.”

We sat at the kitchen table with two glasses of cheap Pinot Grigio, and she waited for me to talk. I didn’t quite know what to say, or where to start. She already knew some of it, so I decided that the best place to begin was with what I'd left out.

“When I was in Hawaii, I met Dorian’s cousin Kendall,” I explained. “Except I soon realized I’d met him before.” I looked down at my glass. “When I was with Elroy.”

Tiffany didn’t need me to say anymore. We’d become friends shortly after I moved here, and she knew what he'd convinced me to do. She'd never judged me for letting my husband pimp me out, and the moment I left him, she'd taken me in without a second thought. She was truly the best friend a person could have.

“So what happened today?” she asked, sticking to the heart of the matter. “Or did something come up with Dorian about Hawaii?”

I cringed and took a sip of wine. I hoped it would help fortify me. “He came to find me here,” I replied. “Kenny, I mean. He tried to ‘hire’ me, and I shot him down. I thought that would be the end of it. A misunderstanding based on my past. Embarrassing, but nothing more than that. Except today, he found me on the casino floor, and I had to be friendly with him because Earl would fire my ass if I snapped at a guest in the middle of the floor. I didn't like it, but it wasn't really a big deal. But then afterward...Dorian confronted me. He saw the whole thing.”

“When you say confronted you…” Tiffany narrowed her eyes. “Do you mean he got upset with you just because you were being nice to his cousin?”

“He and his cousins have this...thing.” I waved my hands in the air. “He and Enzo didn’t talk about it much, but I know they don’t get along. Something to do with his cousin’s side of the family being bought out of the company. So if I’m being friendly with his cousin, I guess that’s kind of a betrayal.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Did you explain to him what was going on?”

“No.” I sighed. “He asked if...” I forced myself to say it. “He asked if I was giving his cousin the same 'perks' I was giving him, and it just made me think of the past.” I swallowed hard, fighting back tears. “And it made me wonder if that was how he'd seen me all along. A perk. Not any different from the men I used to fuck for money.”

“I'm going to kill him.”

Before I could respond to her only half-joking statement, my phone rang. I tore it from my pocket, hoping it was Dorian. Maybe he'd realized how much he hurt me...but it wasn’t Dorian. It was Sinclair. I’d all but forgotten he even existed.

“I’ve got to get this,” I said to Tiffany. “Do you mind?”

She shook her head, scowling. “Go ahead. I'll just be here plotting ways to castrate and eviscerate that rich bastard.”

“Hello?” I answered as I stepped away from the table.

“Hello. How are you, Briana?”

Sinclair was always so polite. It was one of the things I appreciated about him. It would make what I knew I had to do easier.

“I'm good,” I said. “And yourself?”

“I'm faring well, thank you. I wanted to call and let you know that I'll be coming to town this weekend.”

I had to squeeze my eyes shut to say what came next. Turning away a man was one thing, but there was a host of other things I'd be turning away when I ended things with Sinclair. Money, namely.

But I needed to do this. It had gone on far longer than it should have, and now that I had a promotion on the horizon, I couldn't put it off any longer. At least neither of us had any illusions about the arrangement between us.

“We need to talk.” I kept my tone soft.

“That’s a phrase I haven’t heard in a long time,” he mused.

He told me that he preferred having an arrangement like ours, rather than dating normally, because it was easier for him. No rejection. No stress. No strings. He’d been married before and didn't want to get into something that complicated again. We had an understanding, but it was one thing to know it logically and something else to put it to the test.

“I’ve enjoyed my time with you, but things have changed. I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”

He was silent for a moment before asking, “Am I not providing for you well enough?”

He didn't sound hurt, merely curious, and the anxiety in me eased a bit.

“No, no, it’s not that. Like I said, some things have changed, and it wouldn't be fair to either of us to continue.”

I’d chosen to be vague because I didn’t want to explain that I was ending our “relationship” because it put a bad taste in my mouth. What I had with him wasn't like what I'd done in the past. He wasn't a trick I turned for a payout. But he wasn't my boyfriend either. Or my future. Some women would be okay with that, and I wouldn't judge them, or him, for it. It just wasn't what I wanted anymore.

“I understand,” he said finally. His tone was even, but it always was. It was impossible to tell what he was feeling. I suspected that was either a product of his marriage or part of what had ended it.

“You do?”

“Of course,” he replied. “I knew it wouldn’t last forever.” He paused for a moment, then added, “I hate to bring it up, but your rent–”

“I understand,” I said quickly. “And I hope you know how much I appreciate all of your help, both with rent and with Mikala's school.”

“I do. Are you going to be okay?”

I knew he wasn't asking about my emotional state, but rather the bills he'd taken care of while we were together. “I will.”

“Briana?”

“Yeah?”

“If you change your mind, you have my number.”

“Take care.” I ended the call and went back to where Tiffany was waiting.

“So?” she asked as she took my hand and squeezed.

I looked over at her and smiled faintly. “He took it pretty well.”

“That’s good.” She smiled, looking relieved for me. “I’m proud of you.”

If only that were enough to make me feel better. I loved her for it, but I knew I'd appreciate it even more once my heart stopped hurting.

“I’m going to head to bed.” I put on my best fake smile, willing it to travel up to my eyes so that I wouldn’t worry my best friend. She wished me a good night even though her expression said she knew I was still hurting. A moment later, I was in my bedroom, thinking over this change in my life.

Things were going to be a bit tighter without Sinclair's help, but I also felt that I had more room to breathe. The shame I’d been carrying around was lighter, though I doubted that burden would ever dissipate entirely. It was something I’d just have to live with.

Like missing Dorian.