My best friend buries her head in my pillow—my pillow—as a breathy moan falls from her lips. I’m frozen in place, completely stuck, unable to move because this has to be a bad dream. It has to be. Mathis wouldn’t do this to me, and neither would Lizzie. They just wouldn’t.
Shaking my head, I bring a hand to my mouth and watch the horrid scene unfold in front of me. Neither one of them notices me standing in the doorway. The minutes tick by, and with each passing second, my disbelief and hurt turn more into pure, white anger.
Taking my phone out, I pull up my camera, switch it to video, and hit record. I’m not doing it to be malicious—I won’t be selling it to the tabloids. I’m doing it as a reminder, because I know Mathis. He’ll try to worm his way back into my life, and I need to be able to remind myself exactly what happened, remind myself that I deserve better than someone like him.
I watch through the screen as Mathis brings Lizzie to the brink. He pumps his hips several more times, and when he collapses on top of her, I tuck my phone back into my pocket.
I applaud them as I saunter into the room. Their heads whip around, and Lizzie scrambles to cover herself. Mathis flies off of the bed, and I have to stifle a laugh. The look on their faces is absolutely priceless, and then they both start yammering as I reach under the bed and pull out a bag I stuffed there several months ago.
“Oh God, Leni.” Wrapping the sheet around her body, Lizzie jumps off the bed. “Leni, I’m so sorry. Please—”
“What the fuck are you doing, Leni?” Mathis growls, cutting Lizzie off.
Stupid fucking asshole. What the fuck does it look like I’m doing?
That’s what I want to say, but I keep my lips sealed tight. They don’t deserve my anger or my pain. I won’t give them the satisfaction of seeing me break. Mathis reaches for my bag and tries to pull it from my hand, but I’ve got a death grip on it.
“She means nothing to me,” he declares, following me around the room. “She came on to me, and I was weak. I was weak, baby. I had been drinking and—” His words stop when Lizzie smacks him across the face.
“You son of a bitch,” she sneers, jamming a finger in his chest. “How dare you make this out to be my fault? You’ve been trying to get in my pants since we met.”
“And I didn’t have to try very fucking hard, did I?”
I take a deep breath, feeling the blood rushing through my ears. Coupled with the tightness in my throat, I know I’m moments from falling apart.
Pulling open a drawer, I scoop out a few sets of lingerie, leaving the ones Mathis bought me behind.
I open the closet door and start yanking clothes off the hangers, shoving them into the bag.
It isn’t until a hand wraps around my upper arm that I allow the noise from the room to filter back in.
“What the hell are you doing?” Mathis yells, pulling me out of the closet. “You’re not leaving.”
“The hell I’m not.” Four words. That’s all he’s going to get from me. Four words that will cut the son of a bitch from my life for good.
Mathis’s eyes widen, and for the first time since I walked in, I see true fear there. He knows I’m serious.
“Please. Please don’t do this.” He holds his hands out, trying to calm me. “I swear to you that nothing like this will ever happen again.”
Pushing my way around him, I reach for my sandals in the corner of the room, stuff them in the bag, and head out the door with Lizzie and Mathis hot on my heels.
“Leni, please,” Lizzie begs. “Please don’t leave like this. Let me explain. You’re my best friend!”
Coming to a sudden stop, I whirl around. Mathis manages not to run into me, but Lizzie slams into his back.
“What did you say?” I sneer.
Lizzie steps out from behind Mathis. Tears run down her flushed cheeks, and she makes no attempt to wipe them away. “I said you’re my best friend.”
I shake my head, but she nods and keeps talking.
“Yes, you are. You’re my best friend, and if you’ll just let me explain this—”
“There’s nothing to explain. If you were my best friend, you wouldn’t have fucked my fiancé. It’s as simple as that.” I’m both surprised and proud at how calm my voice is. “I don’t want to hear your excuses, Liz. Or yours,” I add, turning to Mathis with bile rising in my throat. “You two deserve each other.”
“No,” Lizzie cries, throwing herself at me. “Please. Please, Leni.”
“Leni.” Mathis’s voice is thick with emotion, but I don’t turn around to look at either one of them. Determined to put this chapter of my life behind me, I simply walk out the front door, get in my car, and drive to my parents’ house, hoping to talk to Helga.