“Sorry,” she mumbles. “It’s the only thing I could think of that’d cause you to take off like the hounds of hell were chasing you.”
“Jersey, stop jumping to conclusions. We’ve talked about that, lady. You’re going to get yourself into trouble one day if you keep it up. No, he didn’t force me, I lied to him and was so damn ashamed of myself that I couldn’t stick around and look at him day in and day out without the guilt swallowing me whole.”
“But you don’t lie, Britton. You don’t believe in dishonesty, it’s the one thing that gets you riled up.”
“I know!” I shout in exasperation. “It’s why I still can’t look at myself in the mirror. I’m disgusted with myself. I hate the person looking back at me so I steer far away from any I cross.”
“Mirrors?” she confusedly asks. “But they’re everywhere, Britton. You can’t avoid them forever, girl. You’re going to have to face yourself and ask for forgiveness. You aren’t perfect, you’re human, we all make mistakes.”
“Yeah,” I snort, rolling my eyes at myself. “But my mistake is monumental, Jersey. My lie can affect the rest of our lives.”
“When you’re ready to talk about it, Britton, I’m here to listen. Lord knows you’ve done it enough times for me. We’re family, remember?”
“I remember,” I whisper. “I’ll never forget that. You’re my sister, my best friend, the only person I can count on.”
“If you want my opinion, I think you need to call him and talk this out, Britton. Even if he doesn’t forgive you for your infraction, it may give you the peace of mind you need to forgive yourself,” she suggests.
“I know you’re right, Jersey. But every single time I place my finger over his contact, it just hovers, I can’t seem to force myself to press down on it,” I tell her.
“How many times have you told me to buck up and own my shit, Britton?”
“Too many to count,” I state.
“What is it you always say to me, Britton? Stop being an asshole, everyone has one and one is not more unique than another?”
“You sorta butchered that saying, but that’s the gist of it,” I say, laughing.
She giggles, then says, “I may have blundered how you say it, but at least you know what I’m talking about, right?”
“Yeah,” I say, choking up on the tears that refuse to fall. I lick my dry lips and gather my wits before continuing with our conversation. “I get what you’re saying, Jersey.”
“Don’t cry, Britton,” she pleads. “It’ll all be okay.”
“I hope you’re right about that, Jersey. Otherwise, I’ll never be able to show my face at the clubhouse again.”
“You can do this, Britton,” she encourages. “You’re the bravest person I know.”
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. She gives me more credit than I’m due. I’m not brave, it’s a front. One I’ve had since I was little, a disguise I wore to keep myself from losing my marbles. If I hadn’t, I would’ve fallen prey to depression and who knows where things would’ve gone from there.
We end the call and I stand up from the couch and pace the living room. Giving myself a pep talk, convincing myself that Icando this. As I continue wearing a path in the carpet, I pull up his name in my contact list and hit the green dial button. When he answers, I pause, my heart beating rapidly in my chest.
“Britton,” he growls, his husky voice causing shivers to race up and down my spine.
“You mad?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Mad doesn’t even begin to explain what I am,” he declares. “Disappointed tops off the list of things I’m feeling. How could you do that to me? I thought we were friends, Britt. Friends don’t flee, they stick.”
“I don’t know how to do that,” I admit, my rollercoaster emotions strangling me. Up, down, twist, turn, they’re all over the map. I can’t seem to steer them in one direction and it’s eating me up.
“You may have to figure it out,” he decrees. “Especially if–”
I stop him before he has a chance to complete that thought. “Can we not go there until there’s a reason to?” I beg. “I need to face one thing at a time, LoneStar.”
“Come back, Britton,” he orders. “Let’s deal with this together.”
“I’m not ready. I have some soul searching to do,” I confess. “Something about you twists my frame of thinking. Bends it tothe point that it’s unrecognizable. I need to know what that is and fix it beforewedeal with what I did.”
“What you did,” he scoffs, “is lie to my face. But it’s not the worst crime you could have committed, Britton. We can work through it and figure out what freaked you out to the point that you went against everything you morally believe in. Don’t run, Britt. Face your fears and come back to me.”
