I don't go to work on Monday.
Can't. Can't function. Can't sit in that office and pretend to care about marketing strategies and client presentations when my entire world just imploded.
I call in sick. Catherine sounds concerned. "You've been off lately, Elena. Everything okay?" and I lie. Again. Always lying.
"Just a stomach bug. I'll be fine."
I won't be fine.
I don't know if I'll ever be fine again.
Kane calls around ten. I stare at his name on my screen for three rings before answering.
"Hey," I say. My voice sounds hollow. Empty.
"How are you holding up?"
"I'm not."
Silence. Then: "Me neither."
"Have you heard from her?"
"No. She's blocked my number. Blocked me on everything. I tried calling from a different phone, she hung up the second she heard my voice."
The pain in his voice mirrors my own.
"I can't stop seeing her face," I whisper. "The way she looked at us. Like we were strangers. Like she didn't know us at all."
"I know, baby. I know."
"Don't call me that."
"What?"
"Baby. Don't. " My voice breaks. "Every time you call me that I think about how we got here. About all the times I should've stopped this and didn't."
"Elena."
"I destroyed my best friend for you, Kane. My best friend. The girl who's been my family for four years. And for what? Three weeks of sneaking around? Three weeks of lying?"
"It's more than that and you know it"
"Is it? Because right now it feels like the worst mistake of my life."
The words hang between us. Cruel. True.
"You don't mean that," Kane says quietly.
"Don't I?"
More silence. Heavy. Suffocating.
"Come over," he says finally. "Please. I need to see you."
"I can't."
"Elena."
"I can't, Kane. I can't look at you without hating myself. Without thinking about her face. I need..."
I'm crying now. Full ugly sobs. "I need space. Just for a little while. Please."
He's quiet for a long moment. "Okay. If that's what you need."
"It is."
"But Elena? I love you. That hasn't changed. None of this changes that."
"Maybe it should," I whisper.
I hang up before he can respond.
The apartment feels too small. Too quiet. Everywhere I look there's Mara.
The blanket on my couch, we bought it together at Target. The picture frames on my bookshelf; half of them are photos of us. The coffee mugs in my kitchen, her favorite one is still here from last week's girls' night.
Girls' night. When she told me about her dad's mystery woman. When I held her while she worried. When I lied directly to her fucking face.
God abeg. Wetin I don do?
I can't breathe in here. Can't think. I grab my keys. Leave.
Drive aimlessly for an hour. End up at our coffee shop. The one Mara and I came to every Sunday morning for the past two years.
I park across the street. Watch people go in and out. Normal people with normal problems. People who haven't destroyed their best friend's life.
My phone buzzes. Text from Mara.
My heart stops.
I fumble to open it.
Stop trying to contact me. I mean it. I don't want to hear from you. Not now. Not ever. We're done.
The finality of it breaks something in me.
I'm crying so hard I can barely see. Gasping.
Hyperventilating.
A knock on my window makes me jump.
Amanda. From work. She's standing outside my car looking concerned.
I roll down the window. Try to compose myself.I Fail.
"Elena? Oh my God, are you okay?"
"I'm fine"
"You're clearly not fine. What's wrong? What happened?"
"I can't... I can't talk about it."
"Okay. Okay. But you can't drive like this. Come on.
Let's get you some coffee."
She practically drags me into the shop. Sits me down at a corner table. Gets me water. Tissues.
Waits while I try to pull myself together.
"I'm sorry," I finally manage. "You don't need to deal with my breakdown."
"Hey. We're friends. Or at least friendly coworkers. And you look like someone died. So talk to me.
What happened?"
Where do I even start?
"I did something terrible," I hear myself say.
"Something unforgivable."
"How terrible?"
"I slept with my best friend's father."
Amanda's eyes go wide. "Oh. Oh shit."
"Yeah."
"Does she know?"
"As of yesterday. We told her. Together. And she..."
My voice cracks. "She hates me. Completely hates me. And I deserve it. I deserve all of it."
Amanda is quiet for a moment. Processing. Then: "How long?"
"Three weeks. Since we met."
"And you're in love with him."
It's not a question. She can see it on my face.
"Yeah," I whisper. "I'm completely fucking in love with him. And it's destroying everything."
"Does he love you?"
"He says he does."
"Do you believe him?"
"I don't know. I want to. But how can I trust anything right now? How can I trust my own judgment when I made such a catastrophically bad decision?
"Amanda reaches across the table. Squeezes my hand. "You fucked up. Big time. But Elena, you're human. You're allowed to make mistakes."
"Not this mistake. Not this one."
"Even this one. Especially this one." She leans back. "Look. I'm not gonna tell you what you did was okay. It wasn't. You hurt someone you love.
But you can't undo it. All you can do is face the consequences and try to make it right."
"How? She won't even talk to me."
"Then you give her space. You let her process. And maybe, maybe eventually she'll be ready to hear you out."
"And if she's not?"
Amanda doesn't have an answer for that.
I go home. Try to sleep. Can't.
Lie in bed staring at the ceiling replaying everything. Every choice. Every lie. Every moment I could've stopped and didn't.
Around midnight my phone buzzes.
Kane: I know you need space. But I need you to know something.
Kane: I don't regret loving you. I regret hurting Mara. I regret the lies. But I don't regret you.
Kane: Take all the time you need. I'll be here when you're ready.
I stare at the messages. Want to respond. Want to tell him I don't regret him either.
But I can't. Because right now I regret everything.
I turn off my phone. Pull the covers over my head. And cry myself into something resembling sleep.
Tuesday I force myself to go to work.
Show up with dark circles under my eyes. Makeup that can't quite hide the fact that I've been crying for forty-eight hours straight.
Marcus notices immediately. "You okay?"
"Fine. Just tired."
"You sure? Because you look..."
"I said I'm fine."
He backs off. But he keeps watching me throughout the day. Like he's waiting for me to crack.
I make it to lunch before I do.
Lock myself in the bathroom. Have a full panic attack. Gasping. Shaking. Can't breathe can't breathe can't breathe.
Someone knocks. "Elena? It's Amanda. Let me in."
I unlock the door. She slips inside. Takes one look at me and wraps me in a hug.
"I can't do this," I gasp against her shoulder. "I can't function. Can't think. Can't..."
"Shh. Breathe with me. In for four. Hold for four. Out for four."
We breathe together until my heart rate slows. Until I can think again.
"You need to go home," Amanda says gently.
"You're in no state to work."
"I can't. If I go home I'll just fall apart."
"Then fall apart. You're allowed to fall apart."
"I don't know how to do this. How to live with what I've done."
"One day at a time. One hour at a time if you have to." She squeezes my shoulders. "But Elena? You can't keep punishing yourself like this. You made a mistake. A big one. But you're still a person. You still deserve compassion. Even from yourself."
I want to believe her. Want to think I deserve anything except this crushing guilt.
But I can't.
Wednesday I break down and call Kane.
He answers on the first ring. "Elena."
"I'm sorry. I know I said I needed space but I..." I'm crying again. Always crying. "I can't do this alone. I can't."
"Where are you?"
"Home. My apartment."
"I'm coming over."
"Kane."
"I'm coming over. You don't have to see me. I'll sit outside your door if you want. But I'm not leaving you alone right now."
Twenty minutes later there's a knock.
I open the door. He's standing there with takeout bags and that look: the one that says he's barely holding it together too.
"I brought Thai," he says. "Your favorite."
I break. Completely break.
He drops the bags. Catches me as I collapse into his arms.
"I've got you," he murmurs. "I've got you, baby. Let it out."
We end up on the floor. Right there in the entryway. Me sobbing into his chest. Him holding me like I'm the only thing keeping him together.
"I can't stop seeing her face," I gasp. "Every time I close my eyes. The way she looked at us."
"I know. Me too."
"Have you heard from her at all?"
"No. I've tried everything. Calling. Texting. I even went to her apartment. She won't answer. Her mom says she needs time."
"What if time isn't enough? What if she never forgives us?"
"Then we live with that." His hand strokes my hair. "But Elena. I need you to hear me. Really hear me."
I pull back enough to look at him.
"This is my fault," he says. "Not yours. Mine. I'm the adult. I'm the one who should've known better. Should've walked away. You were just..."
"Don't." I shake my head. "Don't make me the victim here. I made choices too. Every day for three weeks I chose to lie to her. That's on me."
"We both fucked up."
"Yeah. We really did."
We sit there on my floor. The Thai food getting cold. Neither of us caring.
"I told you I needed space," I finally say.
"I know."
"So why are you here?"
"Because you called. Because you needed me."
He cups my face. "And I will always come when you need me, Elena. Space or no space. That's what loving someone means."
Loving someone.
God. We love each other. Really love each other.
And it's still not enough to fix this mess.
"Stay tonight," I whisper. "Please. I don't want to be alone."
"Okay."
We don't have sex.
Just lie in my bed. Tangled together. His arms around me. My head on his chest.
"Tell me about her," I say quietly. "About Mara.
Before all this."
Kane is quiet for a moment. Then: "She was the easiest baby. Never cried. Always smiling. Her mom used to say she was sunshine personified."
"What happened? With you and her mom?"
"We got married too young. Twenty-two and twenty. Thought we were in love. Thought we could make it work." He sighs. "But we wanted different things. She wanted stability. A husband who came home at five. I wanted to build something. Prove I wasn't just some kid from a broken home who'd amount to nothing."
"So you chose work."
"Yeah. I chose work. Chose Singapore. Chose money over family. And I lost them both."
"But you came back."
"I came back. Tried to fix it. Make amends with Mara. Be the dad I should've been all along." His arms tighten around me. "And then I met you. And I fucked it all up again."
"We fucked it up. Together."
"Yeah."
We're quiet for a while. Just breathing. Existing.
"What if we can't fix this?" I ask. "What if loving each other isn't enough?"
"I don't know. But I know I'm not giving up on you. On us."
"Even if it means losing her forever?"
"I don't want to lose either of you. But Elena." He tilts my face up to his. "If I have to choose between you and her... I don't know what I'd choose. And that makes me a terrible father."
The honesty is brutal. And somehow exactly what I need to hear.
"I'm a terrible friend," I whisper.
"We're both terrible people."
"Yeah."
Despite everything; the guilt, the pain, the impossibility of our situation, I fall asleep in his arms.
For a few hours, I don't dream about Mara's face.
For a few hours, I can breathe.
Thursday morning I wake up alone.
There's a note on my nightstand. Kane's handwriting.
Didn't want to wake you. Had an early meeting. I love you. We'll figure this out. - K
I stare at the note. Want to believe him. Want to think there's a path forward where we don't lose everything.
But I don't see it.
My phone buzzes. Multiple texts. I grab it hoping and praying it's Mara.
It's not.
It's from a number I don't recognize.
This is Mara's mom. We need to talk. Can you meet me for coffee? Today?
My stomach drops.
Yes. When and where?
Starbucks on Market. 2pm.
I have four hours to prepare for what's probably going to be another person telling me how much I've destroyed their family.
Mara's mom looks tired.
I spot her at a corner table. Coffee already ordered. Expression neutral but her eyes, there's judgment there. And pain.
"Thank you for meeting me," I say as I sit.
"I'm not here to make you feel better," she says bluntly. "I'm here because my daughter is falling apart and I need to understand why."
"I know. I'm so sorry."
"Stop apologizing. Just explain. How did this happen?"
So I tell her. Everything. Meeting Kane at the party. The instant attraction. How we tried to stay away and couldn't. How the lies built up. How we finally told Mara.
She listens without interrupting. When I finish, she's quiet for a long moment.
"Do you love him?" she finally asks.
"Yes."
"And he loves you?"
"He says he does."
"I believe he does. I've known Kane for twenty-five years. I was married to him for fifteen. And I've never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you."
That surprises me. "You've seen us together?"
"No. But Mara showed me pictures. From her graduation party. Before she knew." She pulls out her phone. Shows me a photo.
It's Kane and me in the background of a group shot. He's looking at me. I'm looking at him. The hunger is obvious even in a candid photo.
"She didn't notice then," Mara's mom says. "But looking at it now, it's so obvious. The way you two look at each other."
I can't speak. Can't defend myself.
"I'm not here to judge you," she continues.
"Believe it or not. I'm here because Mara is destroying herself over this. She's not eating. Not sleeping. She went out last weekend and got so drunk her friends had to carry her home. This is killing her."
"I know. I want to fix it."
"You can't fix it. Not right now. She needs time. Space. Therapy probably." She leans forward. "But what I need from you is a promise."
"What kind of promise?"
"That you'll stay away from her. Don't reach out.
Don't try to explain. Don't send mutual friends to plead your case. Just... leave her alone. Let her heal."
The request hurts. But she's right.
"Okay. I promise."
"And Elena?" Her expression softens slightly. "I know you didn't do this to hurt her. I know you're hurting too. But you made your choice. You chose Kane. Now you have to live with the consequences of that choice."
"I know."
"Do you? Because from where I'm sitting it looks like you're trying to have it both ways. Trying to keep Kane and get Mara's forgiveness. You can't have both. Not right now. Maybe not ever."
The truth of it lands like a punch.
She's right. I can't have both.
I chose Kane. And that choice cost me Mara.
"I understand," I whisper.
She stands. "I hope you do. For everyone's sake."
She leaves. I sit there alone with my cold coffee and the wreckage of my life.
That night Kane comes over again.
I tell him about the conversation. About Mara's mom's request.
"She's right," he says. "We need to give Mara space."
"I know."
"But that doesn't mean we're giving up."
"Isn't it though? Isn't that what we're doing? Giving up on her?"
"No. We're respecting her boundaries. There's a difference."
I want to believe that. Want to think space will heal this.
But I'm not sure anything can.
Kane pulls me into his lap. Cradles me against his chest.
"I need to ask you something," he says quietly.
"What?"
"Do you regret this? Us?"
I think about it. Really think about it.
"No," I finally say. "I regret hurting her. I regret the lies. But I don't regret loving you."
"Even if it means losing her?"
"I don't know. Ask me again in a year."
He kisses my forehead. "Fair enough."
We sit in silence. His hand stroking my hair. My fingers tracing the tattoos on his arm.
"What if she never forgives us?" I ask for the hundredth time.
"Then we learn to live with that."
"Can you? Really?"
"I don't know. But I know I can't live without you."
He tilts my face up. "So we figure it out. Together."
"Together," I echo.
He kisses me. Soft. Sweet. Different from the desperate passion of our early days.
This kiss tastes like commitment. Like choosing each other even when it's hard. Even when it costs everything.
I kiss him back. Pouring all my fear and hope and love into it.
"Make love to me," I whisper against his lips.
"You sure?"
"I need to feel something besides guilt. Please."
He carries me to the bedroom. Lays me down gently.
And we make love slowly. Tenderly. His hands reverent on my skin. My body arching into his body.
"I love you," he murmurs as he pushes inside me.
"I love you so fucking much."
"I love you too," I gasp. "God, I love you."
When we cum it's together. Clinging to each other.
Tears mixing with sweat.
Afterward he holds me while I cry. Again. Always crying.
"We're going to be okay," he promises. "I don't know how. But we're going to be okay."
I want to believe him.
God, I want to believe him.
But lying here in the dark, Mara's face haunts me.
And I don't know if we'll ever really be okay again.
Friday I drag myself to work.
Marcus is hovering again. Concerned. Annoying.
"Can I help you with something?" I finally snap.
"Just checking if you're okay. You've seemed really off this week."
"I'm fine."
"You don't look fine."
"Well I am. So you can stop hovering."
He backs off. Hands raised. "Okay. Sorry. Just trying to be a friend."
The word hits different now. Friend. I had a friend. A best friend. And I destroyed that relationship for a man I've known less than a month.
I lock myself in the bathroom. Try to breathe through another panic attack.
My phone buzzes. Text from Kane.
Dinner tonight? I'll cook.
I stare at the message. Want to say yes. Want to lose myself in him. Forget about Mara and guilt and consequences.
But I can't keep doing this. Can't keep using him as a distraction from the mess we made.
I need more space. I'm sorry.
His response is immediate: How much space?
I don't know. A week maybe? I need to think.
Okay. But I'm here if you need me. Always.
I don't respond. Just put my phone away.
And try to figure out how to survive this.
One day at a time.
One hour at a time.
One breath at a time.
Even when breathing feels like drowning.