“Hey, Doc. Just so you know, Jules doesn’t know about Amelia, and I really plan to keep it that way. Man to man, thanks for not saying anything.”
I tilt my head. “I’m not legally allowed to say anything.”
“Right, well—”
“But man to man, I think you’re a piece of shit.”
He stiffens. Every line of his generic face hardens. “It’s not really your business, is it?”
“Nope. So get your hand off the door.”
He does, and after a few moments, the elevator closes, leaving me to stare at my distorted reflection in the metal.
That idiot liar has two women who want him enough to bear his children.Two.
My thoughts finally flitter back to Joss’s claims earlier that I’m some sort of catch. I roll those words over in my mind and examine them. Joss’s opinion matters more than it should, but in most ways, it doesn’t matter at all.
Of all the people I know, I want her good opinion the most. But having it doesn’t change anything. Joss’s friendship, like her opinion, holds too much weight. It’s priceless, irreplaceable even, but it’s still just a friendship.
We areonlyfriends. Just acknowledging she might mean slightly more than that to me has guilt tugging at my edges. Feels like a betrayal, conceptualizing somethingmore, hypothetical as it may be.
She’s closed up behind her walls, and if I was going to be the one to break them down, it would have happened already.
Andthatis why her opinion shouldn’t matter.
But it does.
A bit irritating, that.
To distract myself, I text Geoff.
You down for a drink tonight?
Can’t tonight
Baby stuff.
IYKYK
Ah.
Have fun with that
Everything okay?
I was hoping to talk.
Who are you and what have you done with my friend Asher?
haha
nbd
We’ll talk later.
So I text Joss instead.
Want to be lonely together tonight?
