Friends

Chapter 11

Marcqwuan's POV

"She tells me all of the awful things that he's done to her. She tells me how she wants him out of her life. We both agree that we shouldn't be talking about him because it's going to make the healing process even longer. Yet, she randomly brings him up again and talks about how badly he treated her, and when I point out it wasn't smart to mistreat her, she wants to defend him?! Make it make sense! I'm letting her therapist deal with that because that's too much for me," I say, feeling the tightness in my chest increase.

"Bro, they just stopped talking. Everything is still fresh. You can't just expect her to be healed off the rip," Jaylin states, his tone calm and soothing. I can tell he's trying to calm me down, but it's almost as if he doesn't understand why I'm so pissed.

"Bro, she brought him up and said how shitty he treated her, and when I agreed she defended him. Make it make sense!" My voice rises.

"Bro, think about it. How long has she been in this toxic relationship with him? Four years? She's been justifying his toxic shit for so long. It's probably just a reflex by now. You need to be more patient." I start to realize he has a point. They just ended things, and it's only been a few days.

"Imma let her therapist handle that, bro," I say, the tightness in my chest releasing. I want to support her, to be her rock - but I don't know how to navigate a situation like this. I worry that saying the wrong thing could jeopardize our relationship.

"Bro, didn't you just say she was your dream girl? I know it feels like there is no right answer, but that's not the case," Jaylin states passionately, his voice rising. How did he know what I was thinking? Maybe we've been spending too much time together. "The right thing, and what's always going to be the right thing, is to be there for her no matter what. Bro, I've never seen you this happy or talk about another woman the way you do with Jasmine. This might even be selfish on my part, but if you give up on love then I have to give up because I've never seen a bigger lover boy." I can't tell if he's supporting me because he is living vicariously through me or if he genuinely wants us to work, but regardless he has a point. Nothing worthwhile comes easy.

"She is my dream girl. I know it sounds cheesy but when I look into her eyes I see the future. I see kids, wedding rings, minivans, white picket fences, yet she's so hot and fun. The best of both worlds. She's like the female version of me. We just get each other and it's effortless. So you're right; having someone this perfect for me is worth everything," I say, feeling the defeat and hopelessness leaving my body.

"Exactly. Remember that next time she feels this way. Please tell me you didn't get mad and say something you may regret," he says, his tone almost pleading as if he's hoping I wasn't an idiot.

"No. I just walked away," I reassure him, letting him know I didn;t say anything stupid.

"Alright, bro, good job. Just give it time. She'll realize that she was mean and defensive. If she doesn't, then she's not the woman of your dreams, because the woman of your dreams would be self-aware enough to realize when she's messed up and know you're just trying to be there for her," he says. Suddenly I hear three tiny knocks on my door, like a hamster could be knocking.

"Hey, bro, I'll call you back. Jasmine's at the door," I tell him before hanging up.

I walk towards the door, gathering my thoughts and taking deep breaths. No matter what happens, I'm going to hug her and let her know that I am here for her as her friend. Be cool, Marc, I remind myself as I open the door.

"What's good?" I ask, trying to sound composed.

"I'm sorry. I know you were just trying to help, but you have to understand that since the beginning of my relationship with Kendrick, all of my friends and family have been against it. I've gone to them so many times, and they just talk shit and tell me to stop seeing him. I've always defended him these last four years, it's basically a reflex now."

"I know," I reply, doing my best to sound reassuring.

"And now I've come to you for help getting over him and I'm already fucking up. I've pushed everyone away who cares about me,and I don't want to do the same to you. You've been one of my best friends the last year and-"

I grip the back of her neck and pull her head into my chest, cutting off the rest of her speech. "It's okay. I forgave you like two minutes before you walked in," I mumbled into her hair. I lift her chin, forcing her to look me in the eyes. "I understand all of this is new to you, but I promise that you're not going to navigate through this alone, not while we're friends," I say, hoping it would make her happy. To my surprise, tears start streaming down her face. Oh shit, what did I say?

"I was so scared you were going to leave me," she says, her voice cracking from the sadness.

In this moment, I realize I've never held her this close. She feels so soft, yet her body is freezing. What the fuck has she been doing the last 20 minutes-sitting in a freezer?

"Let's find a show to binge together and cuddle," I suggest. She wipes the tears from her face.

"I'd love that." She quickly turns and heads to the couch. "I can't believe you've seen me cry. I'm such an ugly crier," she says, lying down on the couch.

That's when I come to the sudden realization of what she's wearing. There's no fucking way she's going to cuddle me in that. She's wearing shorts small enough to be considered underwear that have the bottom of her ass hanging out and a tank top. My dick is getting hard just looking at her. Holy fuck, she's going to think I'm some kind of pervert with my dick poking her in her back while we watch tv.