Page 65 of Whispered Promises

“I’m all good, Noah. I-I just forgot that I have some work I need to get done at home, and I have a bit of a headache coming on too. So I’ve got to go. It was lovely to see you.”

Guilt tries to fester as I see Nate’s narrowed gaze watching me. I can feel it penetrating my skin, but it’s overshadowed by the icy-burn of hurt burrowing into my being. He’s watching me break; he can see right through my facade and knows I’m struggling to breathe.

Not waiting to hear their responses, I offer a backwards wave over my shoulder, then all but run out of their flat. I speed-walk to my front door, needing to get behind it and give myself a chance to build those walls back up.

Shoving the door shut behind me, I brace my back against it, my head thudding loudly as it tilts back, and I let a sob break free.

TWENTY-SIX

MAX & NATE

Max

Watching Rosy all but run out hurts more than I’d like to admit. Sadness is a heavy weight around my shoulders, but it’s a burden I’m used to carrying, despite my outward, carefree appearance to the rest of the world. What is the cliché bullshit people say? Hard on the outside, but soft in the middle? Not just a pretty face?

Doesn’t even really matter what it means, just that I’ve spent the last five years hurting, and I don’t have any room for more. So that was me telling her that I’m at capacity.

No more room here, and so we are a friends-only thing. Because friends? They stick around. So this means Rosy and I? We will have each other, and it can work.

The guys are proof of that. They’ve been friends longer than I’ve known them, then when I came along, they put up with my shit and didn’t abandon me. So it works. Rosy and I, we’ll work as friends.

Because we have to.

Burying the feelings deep down, squashing them until they’re a mere tingle, I smile broadly at the guys who are watching me with varying expressions of concern, unease, and annoyance…the latter obviously being Nate.

“So, what film do you fancy watching tonight?” Going for distraction, I walk around to the middle sofa and flop my weight on it, spreading my arms across the back and allowing my tense body to stretch out.

Fake it ‘til you make it, baby.

“Quit bullshitting, Max. What the fuck did you do that had her running out like that?” Nate’s gaze is drilling a hole in the side of my head, seeing through my bullshit. His question is valid…but not one I really want to get into. Putting that boundary in place with Rosy was hard, and I already miss being around her.

Swallowing roughly, I know I need to give them some sort of truth.

“We just talked about things, agreed to stay best friends, and that’s all there is to it.” Needing to move their focus away from talking about feelings and Rosy, I grab the TV remote and start flicking through the options to select a film to watch. “Are we thinking thriller? Maybe a bank heist? Or maybe a psychological mindfuck?”

Silence.

Turning to face them, I’m met with more anger on Nate’s face, shock on Bry’s, and…disappointment on Noah’s. Why is disappointment always the hardest one to receive?

“What? I’m not wanting anything serious. Ever. You all may’ve talked about her not picking, but I never agreed to it. I. Don’t. Do. Love,” I grit out, struggling to sit still under their weighted looks. Fuck them and their judgement. “Rosy, well, she will want more than that eventually, and she deserves to have that too. Fuck, she deserves so much. So I let her know that it won’t be with me, and we agreed to stay as friends.”

The truth slips from my tongue before I can hold it back. I hadn’t meant for it to all come out in that self-deprecating tone. I’d wanted anger or defiance; even just indifference would’ve been better. The muscles in my jaw clench as I try to hold back the emotions threatening to push through my defences.

I’m not going to cry. I don’t cry. Except that one time I watched Marley and Me, but name one person who didn’t cry during that movie, I dare you.

I know my choices affect all of us, and I need to let them know my decision, but fuck if I wish I didn’t have to so we could all just go back to how it was before we met her.

That would be better, wouldn’t it?

Cramping pain hits my stomach, angry and gnarly. Even my body betrays me with its hunger for her.

Noah sighs loudly, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, and my insides clench even more, knowing I’m disappointing everyone. Pushing himself up from the armchair, he turns and walks towards the front door.

“I’ll go and check on her.”

“Wait, let me grab something for you to take.” Bry’s off the sofa and rushing into the kitchen before I can blink.

See, she doesn’t need me. Noah’s always there to emotionally support her in any way she needs, Bry’s there to take care of her, and Nate’s there to protect her from the world.