xiv. real life

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real life!

Adira can hardly focus as Clueless lights up the dark room. Encased in his arms on her couch, she struggles to find a way to bring up the post.

"Justin, really?" she finally sighs.

"What?" he asks innocently.

"You know what that picture's going to do."

He scoffs. "'Dira, what's the big deal? It's an innocent picture with two friends. You know there's nothing going on between us."

Rolling her eyes, she breaks from his arms and runs her hands through her hair in frustration. "I fucking know that, Justin. You've made it crystal-fucking-clear, and I would never fucking do that to Hailey, but don't you see what you're doing?"

"No, Adira, I fucking don't. It doesn't mean anything."

Her heart cracks. Her breathing quickens. Her cheeks flush. "You really don't see it?"

"Just say it."

"Fine. I feel like you're fucking playing me. You come over, you say these sweet things, you make me feel so special, then you take every opportunity to remind me that you're married and all we'll ever be is friends. I fucking know, Justin, and it fucking hurts. It hurts that you do all this shit and make me feel so fucking loved and then go home to her. I feel like a fucking punching bag that you come to take out all your anger on when you and Hailey do whatever fucking dance you're doing around each other. I'm so fucking tired, Justin." Her eyes burn as tears stream down her face. "Tired of feeling like the second option. Tired of not being enough."

Justin bows his head. "I'm sorry. It's just—you're the only person I feel like I can come to. You're the only one who'll get it. You're the only one who won't judge me. And the things I say . . . it's because I love you and want you to know how special you are to me. You're my best—"

"Please don't, Justin."

"I'm sorry."

"I don't want to hear it."

Slamming his fist on the coffee table, he stands and rolls his eyes. Annoyance shows on his every feature. "Why fucking not? I gave you your chance."

"Explain to me why the fuck I would want my ex-boyfriend who's married to one of my fucking friends and who I basically just told I'm fucking fall back in love with to tell me that all I'll ever be to him is his best friend. I don't want to hear that shit."

"Adira . . ."

"Yeah, Justin. That's what I thought."

His next words caught her by surprise. "Hailey and I are getting a divorce, Adira. That shit's been weighing on me for weeks, you know? I tried to so hard to work on us. I wanted it to work so bad. Then she fucking told me she's pregnant. I was so happy. I was like—this is the chance we need to fix our marriage. Like, nothing could have wiped the smile off my face in that moment." He laughs bitterly. "Then she fucking told me that it's not mine. The baby belongs to Christian-fucking-Beadles, my best friend since God knows when. I won't even lie . . . I laughed in her face. I thought it was a joke. Like, really? He would never. But he texted me after she left. He said, 'I'm sorry, dude. I never meant for this to happen.' I broke my phone after that. Then I came to you. That's why I'm here."

Shock. Disbelief. So many words that could barely capture what she felt in that moment.

Before she could speak, he continues. "I love you, Adira. You know that. I told you that when we broke up, and I told you that before Hailey and I got married, but I don't think you want someone like me right now."

"God, Justin. We're both fucking sad, and I fucking want you. Can't you see that?"

"Of course I can!" Tears slip out. "Of course I can." He brings himself to stand before her. "I want you, too." He runs his thumb along her bottom lip. "But we shouldn't." He presses a gentle kiss to her lips.

She laughs bitterly against his lips. "We shouldn't and yet you're the one doing this. If you're going to fucking play with me, get out of my house."

He stares into her eyes for a few seconds. "I'm not playing with you."

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