“I know—” she began.
I held up my hand to stop her. “Then I thought about it. If I had been thinking clearly, I would’ve realized you were the most likely to do this.”
She looked shocked. “What does that mean?”
“It means, I’ve always known that you loved Steven, even when you wouldn’t admit it. But you kept denying it until I convinced myself that you really didn’t have feelings for him. I knew better, and I was crazy to think that love had somehow disappeared.”
“No, don’t blame yourself—”
“Oh, don’t get it twisted,” I said, wagging a finger at her. “Trust and believe, I’m not blaming myself. What you and Steven did was only on you and Steven.”
She retreated to her former cautious, wary stance.
“All I’m saying is that I recognize that this is something that was festering for a long time,” I continued. “I get that. It doesn’t make it right. It definitely doesn’t excuse what you did. But I get it.”
She appeared relieved, but I wasn’t done.
“But I came here for the truth. Was that the first time?”
She held up her hand like she was being sworn in at a trial. “As God as my witness, it was.”
I hated that I believed her. But I did. “You know, it’s not that your word means anything to me anymore, but either you’re a helluva an actress or you’re telling the truth.”
“I’m telling the truth. I’ve never said anything different.”
I began pacing back and forth in her living room. “I’ve replayed this over and over. How you weren’t there for me after Steven died. You were there for Tahiry and I’m grateful for that, but I couldn’t understand why you weren’t there for me. Now I do.”
Felise didn’t say anything. She just let me rant.
“Had you all ever talked about getting together? Googly-eyed each other, anything?” I demanded to know.
“No. Nothing,” she said, her voice reeking of desperation. But not like she was desperate to cover up a lie. Like she was desperate for me to believe she was telling the truth. “We buried our feelings a long time ago. And from the day I fixed him up with you, I have never, ever crossed the line.”
I narrowed my eyes at her.
“I mean, except, you know . . . that one time.”
I wanted to ask her some intimate details, but I had come so far and I didn’t need my memory of my husband tainted any more than it already was.
“I asked him for a divorce that night. Is that why you did it?” I said.
She vehemently shook her head. “No, absolutely not. Honestly, we both just fell to temptation, and after it was over, we swore it would never happen again.”
I glared at her, then said, “I would like to believe that you’re not that low-down. I just can’t imagine that you have been my friend all these years—my best friend—and you were secretly harboring feelings for my husband.”
She took a step toward me. “You’ve got to believe me.”
I didn’t have to do any such thing, but I said, “Fine.”
We stood in silence, former friends facing off. Then I said, “I came to let you know I forgive you.” I waited to feel like this great weight was being lifted from my shoulders. It didn’t happen.
She smiled, greatly relieved. “Thank you, Paula. I just want us to get back to where we were.”
I looked at her like she had lost her mind. “Girl, please. I’m forgiving you for me. Not because you deserve it. I just want to close this chapter of my life.”
She sadly nodded in understanding. “What about Liz and Tahiry?” she asked.
“They are innocent in all of this. I’m not going to interfere in their friendship.”
Her shoulders slumped in relief. I don’t know what kind of monster she thought I was. Just because I complained about my kids a lot didn’t mean that I didn’t have their best interests at heart. And Tahiry and Liz loved each other. I wasn’t going to take that away from them.
“I’m sorry.” She stepped toward me again.
The look on my face stopped her, and she lowered her gaze.
“Yes, you are,” I said. I turned and walked away.
Inside my car, I finally let my river of tears escape. Yes, I was crying for a friendship lost, but forgiving—or trying to forgive—had cleansed my soul. Never in a million years did I think I’d be capable of forgiving such a betrayal, and while I still had a long road to complete healing, I was definitely on my way.
I’d cried enough. I wiped my face, tossed my curls over my shoulder, started my car, and drove toward my future.