ZACH
Nothing will shake the sickening feeling growing in the pit of my stomach. Yvette's long gone, but the weight of her words still hangs heavy in the air. She said nothing, but somehow too much.
As I lean against the washing machine in the salon's tiny laundry room, I can't think of anything except that flash of fear in Yvette's eyes. Something happened between her and my boss. Something terrible. And I haven't got a clue what the fuck to do about it. Nothing? It's none of my business, right?
I scrub my hands down my face. My tired defeated groan echoes in the laundry room.
Today has been... a lot.
All the noise. All the people. The salon is an introvert's nightmare. There's nowhere to hide. I regularly clock eighteen-hour days, but it's nothing compared to this place. Days in the salon are relentless. My feet burn. My calves ache. There's never time for breaks. I think I saw Andie duck out to the bathroom maybe once, and I kept one of her appointments amused long enough for her to chug a shake for lunch.
Plain and simple, the salon is brutal.
How did my beautiful girl do this every day and still come home all smiles? She never complained. Not once. And there I was, taking her for granted, letting her dote on me. If I ever get her back, all that needs to change.
Footsteps approach from behind. Not Yvette's clicky heels. The steps are purposeful. Like a soldier. Ever since I arrived this morning, I've been waiting for Andie to come for me. The intense glare she shifted in my direction throughout the day hinted a confrontation was coming.
"Sneak away to slack off in the laundry, huh?" Andie chucks a towel across the room to hit the top of the pile. "You wouldn't be the first."
"Nah, I was putting on another load of laundry. You guys go through a tonne of towels. Oh." I reach for the pack of cigarettes sitting on the counter beside me and hold them up. "I found these in the washing machine."
Andie snorts. "Yvette," she explains. "Eden hates her smoking, but Yvette keeps a few packs hidden around the place. I found a pack in the freezer the other day."
"That's pretty weird."
Andie's smile is faint. "That's Yvette for you."
Andie's gaze doesn't stray from my face, watching me intently like I'm a puzzle she's trying to solve. It's that look again. My stomach twists and I stuff my hands in my pockets as if that will somehow protect me from the lashing I'm about to face.
"What was today really about, Zach?" Andie asks.
"I don't know what you mean. I was genuine when I said I wanted to learn about Eden's work."
"Is that really all it was?"
I sigh. "I think I know what you're getting at, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't want your approval. You and Eden are a package deal."
"We are. Do you even understand why though?"
"You've been friends for a long time." My answer is weak and Andie knows it.
"Eden's more than a friend to me. She's practically a sister. We made it through shitty families and a life barely off the streets to make something of ourselves and we did it together. If you think for one second that I'm going to stand by and watch you keep treating her like an afterthought, you have another thing coming. She deserves better. And if you're not going to protect her, I sure as hell will."
"I do want to protect her. I know I made a lot of mistakes. I put my career first and I shouldn't have, but Andie, everything I was doing was for us—for her—so we could have a better life together. I never meant to hurt Eden."
"A month ago, I might have believed you. You had us all fooled." Andie sighs, running a hand through her hair. "I had my doubts about you from the start, you know? But even I didn't peg you for a cheater."
I exhale sharply. These accusations always hit me hard, but I manage to keep my voice even when I reply, "I know how it might have looked to Eden that night, but I never cheated on her."
"Prove it."
My head snaps up, searching Andie's face. "I ah... I want to. But how... how can I?"
"Unlock your phone and give it to me."
Without hesitating, I slip my phone out of the back pocket of my jeans, press my thumb to unlock it, and hold it out toward Andie on my open palm. Shock flashes across her face—she obviously didn't think I would do it—before she snags the phone and starts tapping around the screen.
Andie's eyebrows pinch together, her lips flattening. "Where's all your apps?"
"I don't like to have too much clutter on the screen," I reply. "I don't do much on my phone anyway. It's mostly for work."
"Krispy Kreme?" Andie smirks.
"My executive assistant likes donuts," I explain weakly. "Trace needs to be happy if I want anything to get done."
Andie smirks again and starts tapping around. Her finger slides along the screen, scrolling through my messages. "Damn. You get a lot of texts about boring shit."
"Yeah. Mostly organizing settlements or meetings."
"You text your mum and dad a lot," she says, her eyes still on the screen. "And all these texts to Eden... You know she blocked you, right?"
"Yeah, but I like to send her a text every morning... and every night... just in case she changes her mind. I don't want her to think I've stopped thinking about her."
Andie's eyes are back on mine, head tilted, watching me for a few beats before she drops her eyes again. I hear her faint mutter, "Michaela... Michaela... Where is she..." She keeps tapping away. "Gotcha."
For a split second, my vision goes white, blinded by the memory of Michaela's messages on the night that ruined my life. I deleted everything, didn't I? My pulse quickens. I never wanted to see the damn photo in the first place. I know I deleted it. Fuck, I hope I deleted it.
Andie's still muttering as she scrolls back through Michaela's texts. "The bank says it's off until five... Where are the fucking guarantees... Paralegals forgot the land title searches..." Andie's eyes lock on mine. "What is all this shit?"
"Michaela is a lawyer in the banking team. She runs the financing side for some of my clients."
"Other than work, nothing is going on between you two?" When I shake my head, Andie asks, "But even after what happened, you didn't block her?"
My eyes go to the laundry ceiling, counting the tiny flecks of paint peeling off as I blow out a long breath. This looks bad, and even before the words leave my mouth, I know Andie isn't going to buy what I have to say.
"It's like I said. Michaela and I work together on some transactions. She needs to be able to contact me at all times in case something gets fucked up."
Andie nods slowly. "Good excuse."
"It's not—you know what, yeah, I could try harder to work around it," I admit with a sigh. "I will block Michaela if that's what Eden wants."
Andie nods again. Then her lips curl into a grin that chills me to my core. I take a step back and hit the counter. That grin is evil as hell. "Photo time!"
Oh, is that all? Wow, she's about to be disappointed. Bet she's going to love all those fishing memes I send to my dad.
Andie's eyebrows suddenly quirk up, and she looks up at me like I'm deranged. "Why the fuck do you have all these pictures of bread?"
My face flames. Shit. I forgot about that. "I've ah... well... I've been teaching myself how to bake sourdough. The first few loaves were a write-off, but the last couple have been pretty damn good."
She's still staring at me like I'm nuts. "You know you can just buy bread, right?"
"Yeah, I know."
I keep the rest of my stupid plan to myself. Right after Eden left, I got this idea in my head that if she ever gives me a second chance, I want to cook her dinner. Something special.
Eden loves Italian food, so over the last few weeks, I've blown off almost everyone except my parents to spend my spare time perfecting a menu—a salad, bread, lasagne, and dessert. Everything homemade. The tiramisu needs some work because I dug my heels in like a stubborn ass and decided even the savoiardi has to be made from scratch instead of using store-bought. But everything else is pretty good.
Mum is invested in this dinner almost as much as me. She gets a real kick out of those photos.
"This photo album with the love heart symbol." Andie holds up my phone and turns the screen so I can see where she's pointing. "I can't get in this album."
"Yeah, it's... um... password protected."
"Why?"
"It's private." When Andie's face reddens with anger, probably assuming the worst of me, I struggle to quickly explain, "Eden sometimes sent me... you know... umm... photos... of herself... when I was working late."
"Unlock it." Andie holds out the phone.
I shake my head. Non-negotiable. If this is the hill I die on, so be it. I will never betray Eden's trust. "No. Those photos are private. Eden wouldn't want anyone else to see them. Not even her best friend. I'm sorry, but I'm not unlocking it."
Andie's eyes narrow on me. "You two aren't together anymore. You haven't been for weeks. You need to delete everything in that album."
Andie holds out my phone again. I take it from her, the screen shaking under my trembling palm. My heart is in my throat. I haven't looked at the photos since Eden left—not even once—but I don't want to erase a single memory of her that I can still cling to.
Do I even have a choice here?
I sigh. My finger slides across the screen, and in an instant, the album is gone. Everything suddenly feels so heavy. Another piece of Eden is lost from my life forever.
After Andie's satisfied the photos are in oblivion, there's silence in the laundry room. I count the beats of the music faintly pulsing from the other room.
Eventually, Andie speaks again.
"For what it's worth, I believe you when you say you didn't cheat on Eden. But I will never tell Eden that she should take you back, Zach. Not ever."
Andie's icy words hit hard. Not ever. All the air whooshes from my lungs. To know, without doubt, that Eden's best friend will never accept me is a blow I'm not ready for.
"Fuck, Andie, that's cold," I choke out.
"That's cold? How about all the times you missed Friday night drinks? Or the time you couldn't make it to the picnic Eden planned for weeks? Or the time you nearly missed Yvette's birthday lunch? You never make time for the things that are important to Eden."
Andie pauses, waiting for me to deny all the times I let Eden down. I can't. She's right.
Andie continues by digging the knife right in to say, "What about how Eden had to run around to your work for dinner because, otherwise, she would never see you? How many times did you bring her dinner?"
"I can't always control my work—"
Andie barks out a short laugh. "Yeah, your work. We all know about your fucked up priorities. How far down your list is Eden, exactly?"
"Eden's number one," I bite back. "Always."
Andie shakes her head, hands going to her hips and eyes on me, furious. "Maybe right now, she is. You lost her, so you're panicking, pulling out all the stops to win her back. But how long until it goes back to how it was?"
"It will never be like it was before. I understand now—"
"Zach, that is such bullshit, and you know it. Maybe everything will be great for a week. Maybe even for a month. But eventually, I know Eden will be calling me, crying her eyes out like she did a hundred other times because she's always last on your list. I can't watch my best friend lose everything. I won't." Andie pauses to take a shaky breath, chest heaving. She lets out a bitter laugh. "The woman Eden thought you were screwing around with still messages you nearly every day. And why? 'Cause... work. Michaela tried to grab your junk and you stand there and tell me it's all fine. Fuck that."
"Andie, I—"
"Zach, I know you're not a bad person. After today, I actually think you're pretty okay." She flashes me the faintest smile. "But work will always be your number one, and I'm sorry, but Eden deserves better than that."
I say nothing. Not when Andie sighs. Not when she leaves. There's no point fighting.
Andie's right. About everything.