Denied (One Night 2)

‘I’ll go.’ I jump up, anything to delay eating, hoping by some miracle I’ll find my appetite while I’m finding Miller and George. Showing no urgency, I stroll down the hallway, catching a glimpse of Miller’s back as the door closes behind him.

‘What do you want?’ I hear him spit on an attempted hush. It’s a mega fail.

It takes me only a split second to figure that whoever rang the doorbell wasn’t George. They would be back at the table by now, and Miller wouldn’t be asking that question in such a vicious tone. My pace quickens and so does my heart. I take the door handle and pull, but it shifts only millimetres, the resistance increasing slightly under my tug. I don’t want to shout at him and attract Nan’s attention, so I wait a few moments until I feel the resistance ease up; then I throw all of my might into yanking it open. It works. Miller staggers slightly from his unexpected loss of grip, his hair falling onto his brow, his shocked blues darting to me.

‘Olivia.’ He hardly contains his sigh of exasperation as he steps towards me and slides a palm onto my nape. Then he shifts to the side, revealing the mystery guest.

‘Gregory,’ I breathe, delighted and cautious all at once. This isn’t ideal. I would never have chosen to try and repair our friendship with Miller around, but he’s here now and there’s nothing I can do about it. Gregory’s ticking jaw isn’t a good sign that his tolerance of Miller has improved, and Miller’s buzzing form touching mine indicates the same response to my friend.

‘Nice and cosy,’ Gregory grinds out with scathing eyes roaming from Miller to me.

‘Don’t be like that,’ I say softly, attempting to move towards him and getting nowhere. Miller isn’t releasing me, come hell or high water. ‘Miller, please.’ I twist out of his hold and get growled at for my trouble.

‘Forget it, Olivia.’ He reclaims me and I glance up, seeing murder etched all over his face. I don’t need this. ‘What do you want?’ Miller’s tone is soaked in threat.

‘I want to speak to Olivia.’ Gregory states his request on a snarl, matching Miller’s fieriness. They’re like two wolves in a staring stand-off, heaving and gnashing jaws, each one getting ready to attack, except I’m not sure which one will lose their control first. Gregory’s bravado is commendable.

‘Then speak.’

‘Alone.’

Miller’s head shakes mildly, confidently, supremacy oozing from every pore of his refined physique. ‘No,’ he says on a whisper, but the near-silent word is loaded with determination – no raised volume necessary.

Gregory rips his brown eyes from Miller and they land on me with a contemptuous bang. ‘Fine, you can stay,’ he relents, the vein in his neck throbbing.

‘That’s not up for negotiation,’ Miller clarifies.

My best friend doesn’t bless Miller with a disdainful look, instead keeping cold eyes on me. ‘I’m sorry,’ he says, with zero sincerity, his face holding the look of indifference that’s been apparent since I clapped eyes on him. He doesn’t appear or sound sorry in the slightest, yet I’m willing him to be. I want to apologise, too, but for what I don’t know. I don’t think I have anything to be remorseful for. Nevertheless, I’ll willingly offer up an apology if it means I’ll get Gregory back. I may have been distracted since our altercation, but he’s not been around and it’s been gnawing on my conscience. I’ve missed him terribly.

‘I’m sorry, too,’ I whisper, ignoring Miller’s increased breathing and twitching beside me. ‘I hate this.’

I watch as his face drops to match his broad shoulders. He slips a hand into his jeans pocket, his work boots scuffing the pathway beneath. ‘Baby girl, I hate this, too, but I’m here for you.’ He lifts tortured eyes to mine. ‘You need to know that.’

Happiness floods me, the hugest weight lifting from my tired shoulders. ‘Thank you.’

‘You’re welcome,’ he replies, and then removes something from his pocket. His arm extends towards me with something gripped between his fingers. Confusion replaces the relief, and I definitely don’t imagine Miller turning stone cold next to me. ‘Take it,’ Gregory prompts, waving his arm forward.

A shimmer of silver catches the porch light, seeming to blind me like low, winter sunlight. Then I notice the perfect scrolled font. Miller’s ‘business’ card. My heart beats up to my throat and wedges itself there.

Miller’s hand flies out and snatches the card. ‘Where the f**k did you get this?’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ Gregory says calmly, in total control, while I lose control completely, my body vibrating violently with shakes.

‘It f**king matters,’ Miller growls, balling his fist, folding his business card in on itself until it’s out of sight. ‘Where?’

‘Fuck you.’

Miller’s gone from my side in a heartbeat. ‘Miller!’ I scream, but he’s fallen into a zone of rage and nothing will pull him back.

Gregory manages to dodge the first blow, but it’s not long before both men are crashing to the concrete on a thunderous bang. ‘Miller!’ My frantic screams are hopeless and so are my frozen limbs, which I vaguely appreciate through my fog of panic. Getting between these two would be foolish, but I hate feeling so useless. ‘Please stop,’ I cry quietly. The tears building in my eyes swell and release, streaming down my cheeks, blurring the painful sight before me.