Friends

Chapter 26

A/N: Chapters 27-36 are on Patreon along with other exclusive scenes if you want to check those out!

Marcqwuan's POV:

"She slept with her ex?" Steven, my therapist, asks, his voice a mix of surprise and curiosity while his eyebrows rise creating wrinkles in his forehead.

I freeze, my chest tightening. I want to say something, but the words seem to get stuck in my throat. My fingers dig into the armrest of the couch, trying to steady myself.

"Yes," I reply, my voice low. It sounds almost detached, but I'm not sure if I'm fooling anyone—least of all myself.

Steven leans forward slightly, his eyes studying me, waiting for a reaction. "How did you feel when you received this news?"

I swallow hard, trying to push down the wave of sadness and confusion rising in my throat. I don't want to look weak. But the truth is, I feel shattered.

"I'm... taken aback," I say, my words barely a whisper. I shift in my seat, my legs tight and pressed together, trying to hold everything inside. I shift my hands to my lap, twisting them nervously in my lap.

"Why?" Steven asks, his voice gentle but probing. He's fishing, I can tell. And at this moment, I don't know whether to give him the truth or keep hiding.

I take a deep breath, and then another, hoping to find the right words. "The point of being with each other every day on the couch is to build a bond of trust. We're supposed to be our most authentic and vulnerable selves, because in the past, we've both been lied to." My throat tightens. My chest hurts. "The idea of starting as friends and doing this... it was supposed to break the cycle. Start something healthy." My voice cracks. "But now... I feel like I can't trust her."

I lean back, my head falling to the back of the couch, my eyes staring at the ceiling. I feel dizzy. It's like the world has shifted under me, and I'm just waiting for it to stop spinning.

"Have you told her this?" Steven's voice is calm, but there's something sharp in his tone, a slight edge as if he's pushing me to see the bigger picture.

"No, I haven't," I say, my hands curling into fists. "I didn't really get the chance." My voice shakes as I add, "I don't even know if I want to talk to her right now."

Steven doesn't respond immediately. Instead, he waits, giving me space to gather my thoughts. I try to focus, but the words are blurry. I see her face, her smile, the way she looks at me like I'm the one she trusts most in the world. And now this? It feels like betrayal, a weight on my chest I can't shake.

"What did you say when you found out?" Steven asks, leaning in ever so slightly. His gaze is steady, but I can feel the quiet intensity, like he's peeling back the layers of everything I've been trying to avoid.

"I told her it's okay," I say, my voice shaky now. "That I'm unphased. And then I asked her on a date." My lips feel dry, cracked. I wipe them nervously, avoiding Steven's eyes.

He looks at me, eyes narrowing with quiet disbelief. "Why do you make it seem like you're not affected when you are?" There's no judgment in his tone, just an openness, as if he's trying to help me see the truth.

My body tenses. I can feel my heart beating faster, my pulse thudding in my ears. "I needed to be her rock," I explain, my voice soft but forceful. "Her safe space. She was already beating herself up. I didn't want to kick her when she was down."

Steven nods slowly, a small but knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Interesting," he says, his eyes flickering with something I can't quite place. There's something in the way he's looking at me now, as if he already knows the answer, but he's letting me find it myself.

"Why is that interesting?" I ask, my breath shallow and filled with confusion.

"You mentioned being vulnerable and authentic, breaking the cycle with honesty. But you didn't do either of those. You lied and put on a front, pretending everything was okay when it wasn't," he says, his voice firm now, cutting through the haze of my thoughts.

I flinch. My body stiffens. That hits hard—harder than I want to admit.

"Oh, fuck," I mutter, my eyes welling with a mixture of shame and anger. He's right. I knew he would be. "I hate it when people say things like 'but that's different,' but in that moment..." I trail off, desperate for him to see it from my side, "that's gotta be different, right?"

He's unflinching. "It's not. Lying is lying, no matter how you want to justify it," he says, the words sharp and final.

I'm quiet for a moment, my body trembling slightly, as I try to grasp the weight of what he's saying. "Why are we talking about me lying when she slept with her ex?" I spit out, feeling a sudden rush of frustration.

"I'm not giving her therapy," Steven says, his tone calm but unwavering. "I'm giving you therapy. This session is about you. She's going to therapy to focus on herself."

I nod, but it doesn't make it easier. This isn't about her. It's about me. It always has been.

"So, what you're saying is her fucking up and lying doesn't matter? Her actions didn't influence mine at all?" I ask, the words coming out rough, as if I'm choking on them.

"No," Steven says, his voice a little softer now. "What I'm saying is that you're human. She's human. Humans lie. Holding her to a standard of never lying is not only unreasonable and unrealistic, but in your case, it's hypocritical."

I feel a knot form in my stomach. He's right. I can't escape it. "I... I don't know what to say to that," I admit, my eyes staring down at my hands, still clenched in my lap.

Steven leans back, his gaze never leaving me. "I wouldn't say this to any other client, but we've known each other for five years, so I'll say it: I told you so. I told you this was a very real possibility, that she might go back to her ex for comfort. Whether you're treating her better or not, she's in uncharted territory. I'm not saying she's a bad person, I'm saying she's human. Growth isn't linear. She's going to have relapses, and I told you that if you want to get involved with her, you have to accept that."

The words hit like a slap. I stare at him, my body frozen. The truth is too much to bear. "You're right," I whisper, my voice breaking. "I saw this coming too. I just thought she'd be honest."

Steven's expression softens, but only slightly. "Lead by example. You want to lead the friendship, the relationship—lead by example. Be honest with her, and eventually, she'll be honest with you. But this is a conversation you two need to have."

"I understand," I whisper, my heart heavy in my chest. "And if she continues to lie? Then what?"

"That depends on what you want. Do you want to date someone that can't be honest?" he asks, his tone alluding to the idea of him already knowing the answer.

"No, I don't," I answer, laughing, feeling relief I didn't realize I needed.

He nods, but I can see the wheels turning in his mind. "So, how does the conversation end between you two once she confesses to sleeping with her ex?" he asks, his voice quieter now, but still cutting through the tension that fills the room.

"I asked her on a date."