“Yeah, it is. They’ve been really accommodating, and they’re all incredibly nice.” I say, sitting on
the desk.
“If you had to leave New York, I’m glad it was for this kind of setup. I’m happy for you.” The
little lines between her brows are pronounced.
“Your words say you’re happy for me, but your face doesn’t match.”
She winces, but it doesn’t erase the troubled look she wears. It’s a version of Abigail that I don’t
really know or understand.
I understand loss and devastation, but I don’t understand her kind of heartbreak, not really. Though
I might be able to get there imagining the inevitable break up with Zach. My boyfriend.
God, that still sounds weird.
“Maya,” she says, biting her lip. “I…I feel like I have to say this, and please know this is coming
from me as your friend.”
I grip the edge of the desk tightly and nod, bracing myself. The look on her face combined with
that ominous start has my stomach in a knot.
“You seem to be thriving here. Really. And the fact that you’re seeing someone is amazing. I am
truly happy for you. But,” her mouth twists and she exhales heavily. “My whole life was wrapped up
in Jason. I lived in his apartment. He paid the bills, and now that the rat bastard cheated, I’m left with
nearly nothing. The only saving grace is the bit of severance I had left, and you, a friend who could
help me out of a bad spot. I just can’t help worrying about you.”
“Why are you worried?” I ask, though a tendril of understanding is starting to unravel.
“What happens if he breaks up with you? Or you break up with him? You’re living in an apartment
he owns. He’s your boss. He could make things really difficult for you, or hell, even fire you.”
“He wouldn’t do that,” I say quietly. He already assured me of that.
She reaches over and covers my hand. “I hope not. I hope that things stay really good and that he’s
your forever guy. But I just think you’re in a scary situation. I don’t ever want what happened to me to
happen to you. I mean, let’s face it, men are whores.”
Bitterness laces her voice. Again, I want to tell her she’s wrong, that Zach’s not like that. At least
not with me, but it feels a little hollow. More than one person has referred to him as a man whore.
Hell, he said it too. And Bree told me about the clubs. None of this is new information.
So why does it feel new?
