𝐔𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃

36 | do we have a deal?

"Are you fucking serious right now?" Sam suddenly exclaims.

"Look, I didn't have a choice alright?" I insist. "He doesn't know what you know."

But he just sighs when he continues, "You aren't with him anymore and he doesn't owe you anything. It's common courtesy to at least answer his questions."

"You think I don't already know that, Sam?" I muse. "I'm a mess and he knows that well enough. If I tell him now what I'm going through, he won't stop asking questions and then he will circle it all back to when were together. I don't want to fight with him about our relationship again, because he is literally the only person who has seen me at a better state. He saw me getting better until...well I just didn't. He saw me as the person I wanted to be, but then I fucked up, because I can't help the chemical imbalances in my brain. I can't control how I feel." Sam just looks at me and nods along, "And the worst part of it is that sometimes, I can't control my actions when I'm in that headspace. When I'm manic one minute it's as if I can hold the world in my palm one second and the next, I'm a pathetic little girl who's lost her way into the world she wanted to rule. I did things, bad things. Unforgivable things. And if Jimin finds out what we did he won't ever forgive us." I finally choke out.

"We were drunk." He says flatly.

"And I was experiencing a manic episode. Bad combination." I shrug. "It still doesn't change the fact that I cheated on my boyfriend and kept everything about it to myself."

"It wasn't your fault."

"Then is it yours?" I ask, a tear sliding down my eye. "Because when we were intoxicated everything seemed so simple, so small. So meaningless."

"You weren't in your right mind."

"You weren't either." I counter. "Yet we still betrayed someone we hold dear."

He laughs bitterly to himself when he plops down on the couch and I follow him by sitting across him on the coffee table. "I still feel guilty about it. There are times when I can't even look at myself in the mirror. I can't even look at my friend in the eye after what I did to him." He crouches over his knees and faces me as he proceeds, "I felt like shit about it and trust me I still do, that when I heard that the two of you broke up, I kind of felt relieved."

"Why?"

"I don't know." He shrugs. "I guess it's because you not being around won't be a painful reminder of the fact that I slept with one of my closest friends' girlfriend."

"I see..."

"I wanted to do something for him; I closed a fucking massage appointment for him, but at the same time I figured it was pointless because all that I did was to make myself feel better and that fucking sucks. Like I wanted to somehow make things right, but even when I try to do something remotely good to make up for the fucked-up thing I did, it still doesn't matter, because I'm a coward and I can't bring myself to tell him."

"If it makes you feel any better, I accused him of cheating more than once." I say lowly. "Ironic, isn't it? I was an insecure little bitch already, diagnosed with bipolar disorder when I was eighteen just like my mother and instead of trusting my wonderful boyfriend, I tried to do everything on my own terms. Fix myself alone, while pretending I was stable with him. Even when we fought and we made up, it was always on my terms. He never had a say and I resent myself for treating him like garbage when all he ever did was support me." I sigh to myself as I put away the towel he gave me, "And here I am after a fight with my ex, having a conversation with the man I cheated on him with, because as sad as it sounds, I don't have any true friends like you do."