18

CHAPTER EIGHTEENclover's pov

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"SO THIS ISN'T GOING TO WORK OUT, IS IT?" Grant sits across from me, eyes locked on mine, his expression steady. I watch him for a moment, trying to read his thoughts, but he's a stone wall. No cracks. No slips. Just that slight tilt of his head and the way his fingers tap rhythmically against the edge of his glass.

I cut into my steak with my fork, the knife sliding through with ease, but my appetite is long gone. Sunlight streams through the tall glass windows, painting the room in a soft glow. Everything feels too bright. Too perfect. Like the universe is mocking me.

I take a breath, setting my fork down gently. "It's not," I say finally, the words heavier than I expected. "I lo—" I catch myself, laughing awkwardly. "I like this guy." I meet his gaze, and to his credit, he doesn't flinch. Just listens. I clear my throat and continue. "At first, I didn't see the point of indulging him. He wasn't fully committed to me, and hell...sometimes I still don't see the point. But after talking recently, I realized that some of my faults in any relationship...it's commitment. Not that I can't commit, but the insecurities I have about trusting someone? It affects me from gaining it."

Grant nods slowly, his eyes softening just a bit. I wonder if he's been waiting for me to say this.

I look out the window, the light catching on the glass, shimmering. "And honestly...the more I get to know you, the less I feel a romantic pull. It's more platonic, you know? And I'd rather tell you all of this honestly because I've been engaged once...been through enough relationships...and I've seen what happens when the truth ain't laid out on the table."

He's silent for a moment, taking it all in. His hands are clasped together, elbows resting on the table. Finally, he lets out a small grunt—a laugh maybe?—and nods. "I appreciate that," he says, voice calm and steady. "Most people wouldn't say it. They'd just keep going until it broke apart anyway."

I offer him a small smile, the tension in my shoulders slipping away just a bit. "Yeah, well...I guess I'm tired of pretending. Tired of forcing things."

Grant leans back in his chair, eyes still on me. "And this guy? He know you love— I mean like him?"

I pause, my fingers tracing the edge of my glass while a smile graces my lips. "Not yet," I admit, my voice dropping. "But he will."

Grant nods once more, pushing his chair back and standing up. He places a good deal of money on the table for the bill. He grabs his coat from the back of the chair and slips it on, his movements smooth and unbothered. He leans down, pressing a light kiss to my cheek. "Good luck," he whispers, the warmth of his breath lingering for just a moment before he pulls away.

I watch him leave, the door closing softly behind him, the sunlight spilling across the empty space he left behind. I pick up my fork again, cutting another piece of steak, but I don't eat it. I just stare out the window, breathing in the silence.

Because I know the hardest part is still ahead of me.

━。゜✿ฺ✿ฺ゜。━

"You okay? You look sad, Clo," Nesha asked, rubbing my shoulder in that soft way she always does. Her hands were warm, comforting. She's always been that way. Everybody's rock. Everybody's shoulder to lean on. And here I was...using her kindness while lying to her face.

I swallowed hard, my eyes drifting to the floor. I didn't deserve her comfort. Not now. Not after what I'd done. Adonis was right—I needed to grow up and face the music. But how could I do that when I couldn't even be honest about my feelings to my best friend? She's my best friend. I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling the burn of tears that I refused to let fall. "Nah, Nesh. I'm really not."

Her hand stilled on my shoulder, then she pulled back, walking around the island to sit across from me. Her eyes were soft, searching. "Well, talk to me. What's wrong?" she asked, leaning forward like she was bracing herself.

I sucked in a breath, feeling it shake on the way out. I rubbed my bangles on my wrist, the shiny gold catching the kitchen light. I needed something to focus on, something that would keep me grounded because I knew...I knew once I opened my mouth, nothing would be the same.

"What I'm about to tell you is gonna sound shocking," I started, my voice trembling. I tried to steady it, but the words came out fragile and cracked. "You're gonna be pissed off. You might never wanna speak to me again, because it's the truth. And I'm tired of hiding it from you, especially when you've always had my back. You're my friend, and I love you."

Her eyebrows knitted together, head tilted just a bit. "What? You get pregnant and not tell me first or sum?" she chuckled lightly, trying to break the tension. I forced a laugh, but it was thin. I bit my bottom lip, my heart slamming against my ribs.

I couldn't even look at her when I said it. "For the past four months...Adonis and I...we've been seeing each other. Romantically, that is." My voice was barely above a whisper, but I knew she heard me. I felt her tense up, the energy shift in the room so sharp it was like a blade slicing through the air.

I swallowed, still not looking at her. "It all started after that night at the club you took me to. I was drunk and lost and couldn't find any of you guys. Adonis found me." I laughed, but it came out hollow. "At the time, I didn't even know who he was. He helped me out...one thing led to another and..." I trailed off, my voice cracking like I couldn't bring myself to say the rest.

Danesha didn't say anything. She just sat there, her eyes fixed on me, unblinking. Her hands were folded neatly on the table, not even shaking. She didn't yell, didn't gasp, didn't do anything. She just...stared.

I shifted in my seat, the silence getting too heavy, too suffocating. I wanted her to say something—anything. Yell at me. Curse me out. Tell me she never wanted to see me again. But she just...stayed quiet.

I couldn't take it anymore. "Nesh, I'm so sor—"

"Get out my house."

Her voice was small. So small. Like it barely made it past her lips. I almost didn't hear her. But the words landed heavy, punched the air right out of my lungs. My eyes shot up to hers, and that's when I saw it.

Her eyes were shining, but there were no tears. Not yet. Just wetness pooling, the dam barely holding. Her hands were still folded, but her knuckles had turned white, and her jaw was clenched so tight I thought it might crack.

"Nesh..." I whispered, voice cracking. "Please..."

Her gaze hardened, that light in her eyes turning to stone. "I said, get out my house."

My heart shattered. I stood up slowly, my legs feeling like they didn't belong to me. I grabbed my bag off the back of the chair, my fingers fumbling with the strap. I opened my mouth to say something but the words got stuck in my throat.

I walked to the door, my footsteps sounding too loud in the silence. My hand was on the doorknob when I heard her voice again.

"And don't come back."

I froze, my hand gripping the metal so tight I thought I might break it off. But I didn't turn around. I couldn't. I just opened the door, stepped outside, and shut it quietly behind me.

The second the door closed, the tears threatened to come. I bit down hard on my lip, blinking fast, willing them back. I wouldn't cry—not here. Not on her porch where she could still hear me.

I walked down the driveway, my steps stiff and measured. One foot in front of the other. Don't look back. My chest felt heavy, like there were bricks stacked on top of my lungs, pressing down, making it hard to breathe. But I kept walking, head down, eyes fixed on the cracks in the pavement.

I dug my nails into the palms of my hands, feeling the pinch, welcoming the sting. I just needed to focus. To stay in the moment. I wrapped my fingers tighter around the strap of my bag, knuckles whitening from the grip.

Keep it together.

I stepped off the curb, not even looking where I was going. My feet carried me down the sidewalk, past the trees swaying softly in the breeze, past the parked cars glittering under the afternoon sun. Everything looked the same. Like the world hadn't just fallen apart behind me.

My throat tightened, and I swallowed hard, forcing down the knot that had lodged itself there. I sniffed, wiped the corner of my eye before anything could spill over. My breathing was shallow, clipped—like my lungs couldn't fill all the way. I kept my gaze forward, unblinking.

Don't cry. Not yet.

But my hands were still shaking, fingers trembling just enough to make me shove them in my pockets. I bit my bottom lip harder, until I tasted copper, until the pain was sharp enough to ground me.

My eyes flicked up, catching my own reflection in the window of a parked car. My face looked calm. Composed. But my eyes—they were glassy, wet at the edges, holding back a storm I refused to let break.

I took a breath. Then another. Letting the cool air fill my lungs, pushing back the pressure that threatened to crush me.

But even as I kept walking, I couldn't shake the feeling—like the ground wasn't steady anymore. Like one wrong step and I'd fall right through.

I can't believe I lost my best friend, because of my stupid ass actions.

When I got home, I walked straight to my room and flopped face-first onto my bed. My purse slipped off my shoulder, hitting the floor with a dull thud, but I didn't bother to pick it up. I just lay there, face buried in my pillow, inhaling the familiar scent of my vanilla body mist still clinging to the sheets. For a second, I thought I might cry. But the tears never came. I just...felt empty. The words Danesha said and how she looked still echoed in my mind.

My phone buzzed on the mattress beside me. Then again. I rolled over and glanced at the screen. Five missed calls from Stacee. Three from Brooklyn. A couple of texts that I didn't even bother to open. I didn't have the energy to talk. Didn't have the strength to explain.

I wasn't ready to answer those questions. Hell, I didn't even have the answers.

I let out a shaky breath, blinking up at the ceiling. I could already picture Danesha on her phone, typing away, throwing up those passive-aggressive quotes she loved to post when she was mad at somebody. She always did that. I used to brush it off, laugh even, cause I knew she was just venting. That was her way of coping.

But this time...I don't think I could laugh it off. Because this time, it was about me.

And Adonis.

My chest tightened at the thought. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the feeling away. I was in too deep now. We both were. I just hoped she wouldn't do anything drastic. Danesha wasn't loud with her pain—she was subtle, quiet, the kind that simmered before it exploded. I didn't even want to think about what she might do if she decided to take it out on him.

I pushed my head deeper into my pillow and let out a long, muffled scream. It scraped up my throat, ragged and raw, but I needed it. I needed to get something out because everything felt like it was clawing at my insides.

When I pulled my face back, my eyes burned, but I still didn't cry. I just let out a sigh, heavy and loaded with everything I couldn't say.

I heard my phone buzzing—over and over, back to back. The sound cut through the silence of my room, sharp and persistent. I rolled my eyes, pulling the pillow over my head, hoping whoever it was would get the hint. They didn't. It just kept going. Ring after ring, like they were determined to annoy the fuck outta me.

I groaned, snatching the phone from beside me. I didn't even check the screen. Just pressed Accept and brought it to my ear. "What?" My voice came out sharper than I intended, but ion care. The shit was pissing me off.

"Yo, wassup witchu ma?" Adonis's voice slipped through the speaker, thick with concern. I could hear it in his tone—the worry, the confusion. It made my chest tighten, and before I could stop it, I felt the sting in my eyes. My throat tightened up like it was locking down the words I didn't want to say.

I pressed my lips together, squeezing my eyes shut. "I can't do this with you anymore, Adonis." My voice cracked, and I hate how weak I sounded.

The line went silent. I could picture him now—his brows knitting together, jaw tight. He always did that when he didn't understand something. "What are you on about, Clover? Don't start this bullshit with me again, yo."

I swallowed hard, running my hand over my face. "Your mom knows everything, Adonis," I whispered, my voice barely above a breath. "Every date, every glance, every finger brush—everything." My hand started shaking, so I clutched the edge of the blanket tighter. "She's mad at me. And I don't want to make it worse. I think I just lost my best friend, so for now just...we're done."

I didn't give him a chance to respond. I hung up.

The room fell silent. My phone dropped onto the mattress beside me, and I stared at it like it might explode. My heart pounded in my ears, and my hands wouldn't stop trembling. I knew he was gonna call back. Knew he was gonna blow up my phone until I answered. But I didn't want to hear it. Not tonight.

I grabbed my phone and threw it across the room. It bounced off the wall and landed somewhere by my closet, the screen going dark. I didn't care. I pulled the covers over up to my chest and buried my face, squeezing my eyes shut.

When I closed them, I felt the tear slide down my cheek. One tear. That's all imma let fall. I can't break. Not here. Not alone. And sure as hell not now.