Second(40)

“Not really,” I say, looking into my mug of coffee. “I mean, it was on the table but neither of us wanted one straight away, especially him.”

“And don’t get me started on Mr. Dean Amore,” she says, flipping her hair back. “I’m so sorry, Bina. I can’t believe this has happened. Can I send Dean an abusive message? I’d like to use my best friend privileges, thank you.”

“Abusive message not needed,” I say, laughing at her animated expressions. “I’m upset that Ben isn’t who I thought he was. I made him sound like the best husband, but he wasn’t. Just because he’s gone I shouldn’t lie or pretend he’s anything he wasn’t. And Dean fucked up. I just hope it was a one-time mistake, and not something he’ll do again, saying that he was trying to protect me from something. Give me truth over protection any day.”

“Said like a true Aquarius,” Tara adds, smirking. “Yeah, everyone really fucked up with you. I’m pissed off for you. Are you going to confront Kate about it? She likes to act like she’s so much better than everyone, and her kids can’t do wrong, but look what Ben did. Cheating isn’t honourable, but then having a kid and hiding him? Total douche move.”

“There’s no point. I feel bad using the kid as a shaming tool; he is just a kid after all,” I say, sighing. “I’d love to give Kate a mouthful but I’m going to be the better person here. And she still has a piece of her son, a grandchild. She probably sees this as a blessing. And looking from a mother’s point of view, maybe it is.”

“Not from your view,” Tara mutters, puffing out a breath. “Let’s go out for a drink tonight. If anyone deserves one, it’s you.”

“Yeah, that actually sounds good,” I say, offering her a smile. “Getting dressed up, wearing make-up and heels and dancing all night with you is definitely something that I need.”

Tara heads home and says she’ll be back later tonight. I send Dean a quick message, knowing he won’t get it until he lands.

I miss you already. Hope your flight wasn’t too bad.

Although in first class, I don’t see how it can be.

There’s a huge time difference from here to LA too, I think it’s about fifteen hours or something, so we’re going to have to work out when we can talk. It’s going to be a bit of a mission, but doable.

I’ll make sure it’s doable.



*****



“I love this song!” I say, standing up and pulling Tara back to the dance floor. I’m on my sixth shot of tequila, and I’m having a great night. We’ve danced and laughed all night, and the night is still young. We head to the middle of the dance floor and start to move to the music, ignoring everyone around us.

“I saw that,” Tara says, laughing.

“Saw what?” I ask, swivelling my hips.

“You just did a belly dance move.”

“Well, what else am I going to classes for if not to show off the moves?” I ask, winking at her.

“This is true,” she says, doing a body roll. “Although I knew that one before class.”

We both laugh like that’s the most hilarious thing anyone has ever said. I realise we can be quite obnoxious when we’re together, but I don’t really care because we always have the best time. Everyone needs a best friend that you can be yourself around, as weird as you like, and can say anything around with no judgement in return. I haven’t been out in so long, it feels good to just be free, with no worries in the world. I know it’s only a temporary fix, and I’ll be regretting it tomorrow when I’m hung-over and dying, but fuck tomorrow.

Let’s live for the moment.

Tara turns around and dances on me, her ass rubbing against me. I grin at her raunchy moves and continue to dance in beat with the music.

By the time we get home the sun is coming up.

I’m asleep before my head even hits the pillows.





Chapter Twenty One

I wake up with the mother of all headaches, and a dry mouth. I look next to me on my bed, where Tara is passed out, snoring, and wish I could sleep in like her. Grabbing my phone, which died during the night, I put it on charge and head to the bathroom to pee and brush my teeth. When I’m done, I turn my phone on, wondering if Dean tried to call. When I see the seven missed calls, I cringe. He was probably worried, or thinking that I went back on my word and decided to ignore him.

Fuck.

I press on his name and bring the phone to my ear. I don’t even know what time it is there, but I know it’s night-time. If he’s asleep at least he’ll see the missed call.