Page 26 of Everything But Mine

I cough violently, half my sip of water going down the wrong pipe.

“Just for a few days,” I clarify. “It’s not a big deal. Also, Diego needs to stay in his lane.”

Her eyes narrow, like she’s calculating just how much bullshit I’m feeding her. “Not a big deal? Amanda, you moved in with your ex. An ex who, last I checked, wasn’t exactly known for emotional distance. Freud would’ve had a field day. Defense mechanisms? Sure. Unresolved attachment? Obviously. And we can’t forget a sprinkle of ‘daddy issues,’ courtesy of Eric, just to round it out.”

God, she’s exhausting. And infuriating. Mostly because she’s not wrong.

“He’s not—” I shake my head. “One, we’ve never dated. And, two, we’re not going to now.”

Eric’s office-turned-guest room is just a room. A temporary solution in the form of a bed. There really isn’t more to it. There can’t be.

“We’re going to come back to that.” Val takes a bite of food, her mouth open as she chews. I shake my head at her. “Why do you even need a place to stay? Aren’t things just peachy with Dara-boy?”

There’s an edge to the way she says his name. Val has never liked him. She has her own case study on possible childhood causes of why Daray resorts to a “performed self” when he’s in social groups. I thought it was real when it was just us, but I guess I was wrong. So much for my ability to read people.

“Yeah.” I dip my breadstick into the soup, dragging it out slowly before swirling it back in, letting the thick liquid coat it. “Dara-boy dipped his breadstick in Cassie-bitch.”

I lift it, watching the soup cling and drip. Locking eyes with her, I sink my teeth into a chunk, making a deliberate, slow show of tearing it in half. Immature, maybe, but it beats crying.

There’s a long pause, Val’s eyes flaring, her mouth popping open. “Are you fucking kidding me?!” It’s loud enough to draw attention from the people around us.

“I wish. It would be funny if it weren’t so pathetic. I should’ve seen it coming, but I didn’t. Now, I’m just stuck.”

Stuck… like I’m trapped in some sitcom plotline.

“You’re not stuck.” She waves her hand around. The thought is absurd to her. “You’re freer now than with Dara-boy. He’s a controlling asshole. He’s a narcissist, as we’ve discussed. Won’t do anything for you unless you validate him. Seriously, the man’s got more self-importance than a Nobel Prize winner.” She pauses, eyes locked on mine, making sure the point lands.

“It gets better,” I say instead. “You already know I’m pregnant.” I don’t look away from her, refusing to keep hiding. “But so is she. Cassie’s having his baby.”

The air shifts as her eyes widen. “Let’s talk about that for a minute,” she says, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “You told me you were pregnant in a text. Who does that, Amanda?”

I shrug. “It was stupid. I thought I had my next steps figured out. Babies are good news. I thought a happy text was… Never mind.”

Her expression softens, at odds with her impossibly high, clinically detached bun.

Val sets her hand gently on my wrists, cold to the touch. “And it’s his? Daray’s?”

My face scrunches. “Who else’s would it be?”

“I don’t know about Cassie-bitch. You and Eric, though, have always had this vibe. Nothing ever happened there?” Her grip tightens just enough that I don’t look away.

“Nothing’s ever happened with Eric.” My tone is clipped.

“Well, something did happen. At least once.” She presses with her words, retreating her hand.

“What happened between Eric and me wouldn’t have left me pregnant. Besides, that was years ago.” I swallow thickly. My appetite’s shot. I won’t talk about what happened. He fucks random people. I sweep my feelings under the rug, lock them away, never to revisit. Healthy acceptable coping mechanisms.

“Right.” Val pauses. She isn’t moving, but something in her chestnut irises, a glint, tells me she’s filing this away. “Still, why go to Eric? I have a perfectly good guest room. One that doesn’t come with unresolved history and questionable decision-making.”

I exhale, my hands wrapping tightly around the spoon before putting it down and pushing the bowl away, done with this meal. “It’s complicated, Val.”

Her lips twitch. “With you? Never.”

She waits, the air thick with expectation. I’m not sure how much I’m ready to admit, or how much I even understand it myself. Honestly, all I can tell her is that, after leaving Daray’s apartment, Eric was the only person I wanted to be next to.

“Look, things with Eric are… hard to explain. He’s…” I give myself some time, taking a sip of water as I think. “It’s our thing. We have each other’s backs.”

It’s more than that. Val knows it too. Even if she’s not one of my childhood friends and only has the few details I’ve told her.