Best Friend's Ex Box Set

I swallowed. “I’m going to inform the Secret Service that I found bugs in my apartment and that there has been a breach in security.” My blood was boiling. “Don’t even think I won’t.” I brought my finger into the air and tapped it first to the left, then to the right.

But he laughed once more. He brought his hands to his stomach and shook with such a jolly manner. The fat beneath his crooked shirt seemed to jostle. “I suppose you don’t care too much about your true love’s reputation, now do you? You talk and I play show and tell.”

Xavier’s face flashed before my eyes. Up until this moment, I’d thought that everything with Xavier had been resolved. He wasn’t going to tell his wife about us—not yet. And he was going to ease off that pressure, allowing me to take on my career without his assistance. However, for some reason, I’d allowed this shadowed, terrifying part of my life to drape away. I shook my head, feeling my lungs hiccup in my chest. “If you don’t stop—if you don’t stop—“ I said the words over and over again. I felt like I was hyperventilating.

But he just laughed again. He took a step toward me. I thought he was going to spit in my face. He bit his lip and then kissed me on the side of my face. I felt my stomach turn over. “If you ever make good on your promise to go to the Secret Service,” he began in a whisper, allowing the words to course through my body, “I will make good on my promise to ruin your goddamned life. Both your life and the president’s. Know that your problems are always lurking behind your back. I’m always watching you, Amanda.” He lurched his head back and winked at me.

I thought I was going to throw up.

He shuffled around me, leaving me to stand in the shadow of the corner. Sweat dripped from my armpits. I was certain I wouldn’t make it out of that predicament; I had made too many mistakes. I had such a big enemy. I knelt down on my knees and felt the tears cascade down my face, to the ground. I didn’t know what to do.

I took a taxi from the White House that afternoon, anxious to get out of that place. Jason had sat across from me in that massive room, humming to himself and continually eyeing me with this terrorizing gaze. I continued to stare at my own computer, but the light was burning my eyes, and I was falling into a state of unrest, of fright. For some reason, every time I grew afraid of this uncertain, rocky future at the White House, I pictured myself in that room with the president once more—the room with the candles. He was hovering over me, and he was kissing my mouth, my cheek. We were sure of each other, of each other’s bodies. We didn’t have to be sure about anything else. Not in this daydream.

The taxi screamed across the city, toward my apartment. I knew I had to get some more things out of there and take them back to Rachel’s apartment. Perhaps I would offer to pay for rent; perhaps I would ask her if she could help me find a new apartment. But it would all seem too suspicious. I didn’t want her to think I was too needy; I didn’t want her to think that I needed her, after all.

But God, I did.

I rushed up the steps and burst into my apartment. I tossed my things on my couch and screamed to the walls. “I DON’T KNOW IF YOU CAN HEAR ME, JASON, BUT YOU’RE A FUCKING ASSHOLE!”

I wiped the back of my hand over my mouth, feeling my heart beating so fast in my chest. I would kill him someday, I thought to myself. He was as good as dead.

I gathered my things and then I was out the door once more—a few suits and dresses draped over my arm. I hailed a taxi and popped into it, directing him toward Rachel’s apartment.

When I arrived, she was already home, sitting outside on her balcony. She watched me as I left the taxi, and she peered over the balcony, waving her long, thin arm. “I didn’t think you’d be back today!” she called to me. Her voice seemed hesitant. I couldn’t actually tell if she wanted me there, or if this was an unfortunate thing for her—if she just wanted her free time, alone. Without anyone.

I shrugged. “Can I take up another night on your couch? I’ll pay you a couch surfer fee!” I called. She laughed and waved me up. I felt my heart beat quickly with the thought of a friend, of companionship. I’d forgotten what it was like to actually care about someone.

She opened the door and helped me with my things, allowing me to collapse at the table. I poured us both a glass of wine, and she laughed from the couch. “Already? It’s only 5:30!”

“Exactly,” I said, my eyebrow raised. I took a sip and pursed my lips together, eyeing the red liquid. “It’s good. In fact, it’s probably great.”

“It’s from Napa,” Rachel explained. She closed her eyes as she sipped it as well, shaking her head. “My brother brought it for me when he came to visit last year. Delicious shit, isn’t it?” She sat at the table with me then, peering over at me curiously. “You seem a little off today. Are you okay?” She leaned on her elbow and gazed at me. The gaze wasn’t penetrating or off-putting. Rather, it was like a brush of support. Like a hand to hold.

I shrugged my shoulders. “The campaign team,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s a bitch sometimes. You know?”

She laughed, but her eyes said something else. I wasn’t sure she believed me. She cleared her throat. “It’s just that. You’ve been through all of this before. I know you have. I watched you work during the last round. And God, what a worker you were. You were the reason that I understood I wasn’t cut out for this job.”

My eyes widened. “No! I would have never wanted that to happen. I wanted you to stick around! You were the best part of it for me!”

She shook her head. “That’s certainly not true. You were out for blood, for guts.” She brought her fists together passionately. “I could see it from you a mile away. You knew what you wanted, and you fucking got it.” Her eyes were bright, impressed. “Which was why I always felt honored to be your friend. I felt like—if you respected me, then I was worthy of respect.”

My heart lurched in my chest. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I brought my hand over hers. “And here I was, always thinking you quit because of me. Perhaps you thought I was too intense, or that I was a mean person. Or something.” I shrugged, smiling at her.

She shook her head. “The work was too much for me, sure. I wasn’t happy. Well. The only time I was, I was with you.” She smiled and bit her lip, delivering this treasure to me.

I bowed my head, my heart beating fast. These kind words from a friend—the only friend I’d had in years and years—had made me want to give her some of my baggage, allow her to understand my Jason predicament. I cleared my throat, and I sensed that she was waiting for me to tell her things, for me to deliver the news of my stress to her. But I couldn’t tell her everything, certainly. The president’s very position was at stake.

“It’s just. I’ve been doing something I shouldn’t be doing,” I whispered. I allowed my eyes to glaze over, peering out at th

e window. I didn’t want to see her reaction as I told her. “I’ve been doing something terrible, and someone found out about it. It’s not—it’s not the worst thing. You know. No one is being hurt by what I’m doing. But someone could be hurt—a lot of people could be hurt, including myself—if anyone in the world found out.”

“And someone did find out?” Rachel asked, her eyebrow coaxing into the air.

I nodded. “Someone knows.” The words were so solemn, laced with regret.

“How did this someone—I mean. Were you not careful?” Rachel asked. The words weren’t offensive, and I didn’t take them as such.

I shook my head slightly. “I was careful. I was so careful. I was—I was being spied on.”