My Only Exception (gxg)

Part 22

When I went to Poppy's that night, I was a complete mess.

Poppy's hand was on my back, rubbing gentle circles as I wiped my eyes, but then continuously cried.

"Fuck," I said, "She sounded so pissed off, Poppy."

Poppy looked at me and nodded, "And she might be for a while. This was a big secret for her to learn, and it's going to take some time for her to accept it."

"If she ever does."

Poppy looked down and said, "I know...if she ever does."

More tears escaped from my eyes, and I couldn't even piece together how I was feeling.

Poppy sighed, "I'm sorry, Delilah. This is my fault."

I looked at Poppy, "No, it's not. Not at all, don't say that. I've never once thought that."

Poppy looked at me, "Are you sure? I'm sorry, I'm not trying to make this about me..."

"You're not, Poppy. Please stop apologizing, you didn't do a single thing wrong."

I did everything wrong.

And now I'm about to pay the price.

"I'm here for you, Delilah. No matter how she reacts to you...just know I'm here," Poppy said to me.

I looked at Poppy and gave her a weak smile, "Thank you."

At that moment, my phone vibrated, and I looked to see if it was a text from Emily.

It was.

It said: I know it's getting late, but can you come over? We need to talk.

I looked at Poppy, "Emily texted me asking if I can come over and if we can talk."

"Go," Poppy said, "Try and resolve this the best you can. I'm here if you need me."

I leaned over and kissed Poppy's cheek, "Thank you. I'll try and come over after I talk to Emily."

"If you can't, please call me at least and let me know what she says," Poppy took my hand in hers and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"I will," I said, "Hopefully this goes better than I think."

On my drive to Emily's, I tried to take some deep breaths, but I was freaking out.

Emily and I, in our years of friendship, hardly had any fights. In fact, I can't think of the last time we even had an argument. In high school we very occasionally had some disagreements, but especially as we've gotten older, we really see eye to eye. And if we don't about something, we accept it and move on.

But I lied for months to Emily. About dating someone who broke her heart.

I wasn't sure if there was any getting around this.

Emily texted me to come in through her basement entrance, and I parked in front of her house and did so.

When I walked into the basement, Emily was sitting on the couch, looking at her phone.

"Hi," I said, walking up to Emily.

"Take a seat," she said, "Let's talk."

I nodded and took a seat next to her. Not too close, but close enough.

All I could say was, "I'm sorry."

"I want to hear how this happened," Emily said to me, "When did it even happen, how the hell did you and Poppy go from hating each other to dating?"