Page 39 of Forever After All

"No," I say again, not lying. "Not technically, anyway. He fucked me." I press my mouth into a straight line, trying to stop my face from giving anything away.

Brenna's mouth opens with a satisfying pop. "As soon as we've finished I'm taking you for a drink, so you can explain this madness to me."

"Okay, okay," I reply, trying not to look at my all-too-excited friend as Carter appears out the doors to the left of the foyer.

"Good meeting, Mr. Green?" Brenna asks Carter, and I kick her in the shin under the desk.

"It was agreatmeeting, Brenna. Thanks for asking." Carter winks at me, and I press my legs together.

"Oh, I bet it was." She beams at Carter as I try not to look at him, but he walks up to the desk, tapping it with the two fingers that were inside of me less than half an hour ago, and it makes my belly clench.

I look up to see him smiling down at me. "See you later, Alice?" He tilts his head to the side, asking it like a loaded question.

"Sorry, man. She's mine tonight." Brenna saves me from having to answer. "Girls’ night."

"Girls’ night," I repeat, shrugging and holding my hands up in the air like I don't have a choice in the matter.

"Well, okay then." He nods, stepping away from the desk. "See you soon."

"I'm sure you will." I return his smile with my own and look back down to my computer as he walks out of the building into the sunshine.

"Five o'clock needs to hurry up, because I need to hear this and it better be good." Brenna fizzes at me from the other side of the desk.

Dragging me by the hand into a dusty bar, Brenna finds the only empty booth situated in the back corner. It’s surprisingly busy for a Tuesday evening. She orders a cheap bottle of wine with two glasses, then pours the cold pink liquid into the glass, not leaving much room at the top.

"Fucking spill it." She slides one of the glasses to me and Iclutch it with my hand. "Tell me everything."

Carefully lifting the glass from the table, I try not to spill the wine that threatens to overflow from the glass and I pull it up to my mouth, I take a sip and screw up my face slightly as the cheap vinegary-tasting liquid rolls over my tongue. But I drink it anyway, then I drink some more, and to make sure I definitely think it's disgusting, I drink again for good measure. Placing the glass back down against the table, I realise I've drank half of it. It tastes like shit, but it's apparently what I need.

"So…" I start the conversation. "How long do you have?"

"As long as you need, hon," Brenna replies cheerfully.

Over the next hour and a half, I outline every detail about how we got here. I describe in general detail about the abuse I suffered from my ex and how things escalated once he found drink, but I don't give specifics. I try to keep it as vague as I can as I'd rather not discuss this again until I've told Autumn.

Brenna occasionally makes a shocked or sad face and she squeezes my hand every so often as I talk, then as the story progresses she gets more and more excited. Especially when I tell her about how Carter kept me safe, talked me down from my panic attack, stayed with me when I needed him, made me feel alive. And I give herallthe details, even down to therestroom meetingtoday.

"Well, shit…" she puffs out, leaning back into her seat. "I'm glad that asshole is dead. Sorry, too much? I never know what to say in these situations," she says.

"No, not too much. I'm glad too. I'm just sad that it's taken for him to die for me to start dealing with what happened," I tell my colleague—no, my friend. "My therapy bill is going to be huge." I laugh, because that's how you deal with trauma when you're British.

"But what about Carter? What now?" She asks.

"Honestly, no fucking idea. As it stands right now, Ithinkwe're friends with benefits, but we haven't actually discussed it." I wince at my inability to deal with this like an adult.

"Well, you need to," Brenna tells me sternly. "Because if you don't, someone always ends up getting hurt, and right now, that's probably going to be you."

As much as I want to wave off what she says, I know it's mostly true. We need to have a conversation. Honestly, I would love Carter to be a no-strings-attached fling. I think it’s just what I need right now, but I’ve gone from one no-strings-attached fling to another, and ultimately I end up bored, or sad I don't have the capacity to take it further.

"I'll call him later," I say and look down at my watch, noting how far into the evening it's getting. "Brenna, I need to go, okay? But thank you for this, I needed to get this off my chest, even though I didn't realise it."

"My pleasure, hon," she replies. "Maybe take a couple of days off? Try and sort things out?"

"No need, I'm a big girl, I can take care of my shit." I play with my hair.

"Well, okay then. See you tomorrow?" she asks.

"See you tomorrow," I reply, and we leave the bar together, Brenna turning left and me turning right. I pull out my phone and send a text.

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