This Man Confessed(31)

My mouth gapes: just when I thought she couldn’t be any colder. She’s on fire. Sam’s body shifts, and I know he’s leaving, so I creep slowly and quietly back to my room and push the door shut.

I hear the front door slam, and then the unmistakable sound of sobbing. Kate’s crying. She never cries. I’m infuriated with her, but feeling incredibly sorry for my stupid best friend. I can’t help but think that this never would have happened if Dan wasn’t here.

I could stay in my room and let her have her tears, but instead of letting Kate grieve in peace, I step out and walk across the landing to the lounge. I’m not letting her brush this off later. If I witness her turmoil, then she has to admit that she is, in fact, in turmoil. She’s not evading me this time.

I lean up against the door frame and watch for an eternity as her shoulders jerk and she cries relentlessly. My instincts tell me to sit beside her and cuddle her, but I don’t, and after a good ten minutes, she harshly brushes her cheeks and stands, turning and immediately clocking me in the doorway. As I knew she would, she plasters on an unaffected face and tries to smile. It’s insulting to my intelligence and our friendship.

“Hey,” she chirps on a suppressed sniffle.

“All right?” I ask, not removing myself from the doorway.

“Sure I am. What are you doing here?” She straightens her T-shirt out, diverting her glazed eyes all over her body instead of facing me.

“My car’s outside. You didn’t see it?”

She still doesn’t look at me. “No. What are you doing here?”

I ignore her repeated question. I’m not going to allow her to change the subject. And what would I tell her, anyway? I’ve been married for less than a day and I’ve turned up at her flat with a packed bag. “You probably didn’t take much notice. You know, as you were fighting with Sam.”

Her eyes whip to mine. “Oh,” she says quietly, then insults me further by smiling brightly. “Tea?”

“No,” I answer coolly. “An explanation would be good, though.” I know my eyebrows have just risen expectantly, and I must sound like a nagging parent, but I’m not caving in.

She laughs a little. “An explanation to what?”

“Well, we could start with your little performance last night with my brother, and then you could try explaining why you’ve just finished with Sam.”

“There was nothing to finish.”

“What about my brother?”

“It’s none of your business.” She goes to walk past me, but I shift, blocking her escape. “Move, Ava.”

“No. You’ll sit and talk to me. We’re supposed to be friends.” I grab her arm and drag her over to the couch, pushing her reluctant body down onto the soft cushion. “What’s going on, Kate?”

She flops back irritably. “Nothing.”

“Oh, you make me mad,” I spit out. “Start talking, Matthews.”

She bursts into tears. I’m so relieved. I was on the cusp of slapping her for being so tenacious, but now my arm is around her and she’s sobbing into my chest. I don’t know about Kate, but I feel so much better for this. She does care.

I try to soothe her. “Let’s start with Sam.”

“I told you, it was only meant to be fun.” Her words jerk with her fitful breathing.

“Was?” I ask. “So it’s more than fun?”

“Yes…no…I don’t know!” She sounds so confused, just like me.

“I knew this would happen with Dan arriving.” I sigh. If I was talking to my brother, I’d be shouting down the phone at him. “Kate, you need to remember every reason why you and Dan called it quits.”

“I know. We’re so bad for each other, but we connect, Ava. When we’re together, we connect so well.”

“You mean the sex.” I wince and screw my face up a little. I can’t think of my brother like that.

“Yes, but everything else fails so horribly.”

“It does,” I agree. I’ve witnessed the violent rows, the incessant need to rile each other, and the unhealthy flow of their doomed relationship. They had no respect for each other—not mentally or physically. It was all just about the sex. At the time, I ignored it all, simply because the thought of my best friend and my brother being in love was so ideal. That was the problem, though. They weren’t in love. It was just lust.

She shifts in my embrace and sits up, taking a few calming breaths. “I hate men,” she declares.

“You shouldn’t, especially when there’s one who obviously thinks the world of you.”