Page 67 of Shared By my Ex's Best Friends
My spine straightens. “I’ll take that risk.”
He gives me one last look, something flickering behind his eyes that I can’t quite decipher, then turns and stalks back to his car. I wait until the engine rumbles to life and disappears down the street before I exhale, hands shaking just a little as I reach for the door.
I press my forehead to the wood, letting the cool surface soothe me. My hands are still shaking. My body’s trying to catch up with what just happened.
The second I close it behind me, they appear—Ethan first, then Liam and Jake right behind him. Like they were standing at the ready to defend me if need be.
“You okay?” Ethan asks gently, stepping closer.
“Yeah.” My voice comes out rawer than I intend. “Just… rattled.”
Jake rubs the back of his neck. “We heard most of it.”
Liam’s gaze finds mine, eyes searching. “Do you regret it?”
The question slices through me. Not with pain, but with clarity.
“No.” I don’t even hesitate. “Not for a second.”
Relief softens their faces. Jake lets out a quiet breath and drops onto the arm of the couch with a relieved sigh.
I look at each of them, these men who’ve opened my eyes to a whole new kind of affection. Who make me feel seen and wanted and free all at once.
“I don’t want you guys to have to hide like that again,” I say, voice steady now.
Jake’s lips curl into a grin. “Good. Because I suck at hiding.”
Liam chuckles and pulls me toward him, wrapping me in his arms like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Ethan’s hand finds mine, warm and solid, and Jake crawls in on my other side, bumping my shoulder with his like he’s claiming his place, too.
Chapter twenty-seven
MAYA
Weddings are supposed to be about the couple.
That’s what I keep repeating to myself like a mantra as I crouch in front of Danielle, smoothing the edge of her veil and tucking a loose strand of hair back into place.
My hands tremble just slightly beneath the delicate lace, but I tell myself it’s the adrenaline of the moment. The excitement. The beauty of it all.
Not the ache in my chest or the war I’m fighting behind my smile.
All around us, there’s movement—choreographed chaos. Photographers darting around with lenses as long as my arm, calling out, “Tilt your chin this way, perfect, now look at each other—yes, just like that.”
Bridesmaids whisper-laugh as they reapply lip gloss and straighten their dresses. Within the whirlwind, Danielle’s a vision.
Radiant. Nervous. Ready.
I step back and look at her, catching my breath. The soft blush satin of her gown catches the light, the embroidered bodice glittering like dew in the morning sun.
Her eyes are glassy with unshed tears, and when she sees her reflection, she presses a hand to her chest and exhales like she’s been holding it in all day.
“He’s going to lose it when he sees you,” I murmur, lips curving.
She turns toward me, cheeks flushed with emotion, and reaches for my hand. “Thank you, Maya. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me and this wedding. I know it hasn’t been easy…”
“Hey, that’s what I’m here for,” I assure her with a smile. “Are you ready?”
She nods. “Yes. Let’s do this.”
