60 — JULIAN ADAMS (POV)
I freeze in place, staring at the door — at the figure of my best friend standing there, looking at me almost innocently. And I shudder, noticing how he walks into the office saying, “I missed you two.”
A pang of guilt runs through my chest, cutting, lacerating.
“Mike...” My voice fails, and I clench my hands into fists, then force myself to smile while he steps closer and Angelee moves away from me, taking long steps...
My mouth is bitter.
Damn.
“Hi, sweetheart.” Mike approaches her, pulling her into a comforting hug. And the way she wraps her arms around his body, burying her face in the curve of his neck and shoulder, makes me feel even worse. “How are you?”
“I'm fine, Dad.” She murmurs, her voice so low it barely reaches my ears. “I missed you.”
I look away, staring at the floor, staring anywhere else...
Honestly, I feel terrible. If before the guilt weighed my shoulders, now it's completely crushing me, to the point of stealing my air... Because a selfish part of me, really selfish, wishes he would stay on the other side of the world, far beyond this city, this country.
I'm a fucking terrible friend.
Once again, I almost gave in to Angelee's charms. Even though I had decided to distance myself from her, she still managed to charm me over and over. If I close my damn eyes, I can still see her face and the way she becomes so submissive when it comes to my touch.
This is so dangerous... This thing that we've been doing.... I feel like I'm stabbing my best friend in the back.
“So... What's going on?” Mike asks, and Angelee's eyes nearly pop out. I need to hold back a laugh because she really let it all over her face, huh.
“I called her in to see about the Blossom Co. issue,” I say, pressing a button on the keyboard that opens the exact project folders. Then I take my eyes back to Mike and give a discreet smile, “They're demanding the deadline shortened.”
“Of course they are.” Mike snorts, gently stroking his daughter's shoulders, “Are you putting Angelee on the project?”
“Yes.”
“Don't you think you're overloading my daughter too much?” Despite his words, his tone is slightly playful. “Come on, give her a break.”
Overloading, huh? I think I am, yes.
I take a deep breath, loosening my tie, feeling it suddenly too tight — I'm really feeling suffocated now. So I run my hand across my face and up to my hair, with another long sigh.
“Yeah, sure. I'll get someone else to take care of it.” I say, at last, giving up... But when Angelee's fearful eyes meet mine, these beautiful brown eyes... I feel my chest ache.
“Thank you...” She takes an uneasy step forward, disengaging herself from her father's embrace with a conflicted expression. Then she points to the door and adds, with her voice flawed and her breathing heavy, “I guess I'll be going then...”
“Why don't you wait for me downstairs, sweetheart? I'll walk you home... In fact, I bought you some foreign sweets, I think you'll like it.” Mike says, looking at his daughter with a fond expression.
*I'm the worst.*
She agrees and starts to walk away, gripping the door handle fearfully. Then she lifts her eyes and looks at me, straight into my face — but this eye contact lasts only a moment, a moment too short. Soon, she's walking out of my office, closing the door behind her and leaving me alone with Mike.
Suddenly, it feels like the room has become small, doesn't it?
“I hope you're dealing with the forum situation.” Mike says, suddenly too serious, his tone harsh and his eyes cold, so different from when they look at his daughter. “Because if I have to deal with it, things won't be good.”
“I know.” With a long sigh, I bring my hands to my hair again, holding tightly to the blonde strands that are already messy from the usual hairstyle. “The first time, the credentials of Thelma Jones, a former finance employee, were used. She left the company six months ago. And now the credentials of Theresa Wells, from the marketing department in the Massachusetts; she hasn't worked for us for at least four months.”
“And why are they still active?” Mike frowns.
I'd like to know, too.
“Probably an irresponsibility of the IT Technician team.”
“Should I fire them all?” Mike tilts his head slightly. “It's *my daughter* who is being harmed. It's *my daughter* they're embarrassing and making sad... Firing them wouldn't even be enough...”
“I'm dealing with it, Mike... don't worry.” I say firm because, believe me... I'm controlling myself not to fire them too.
“Fine, I'll leave it to you.” He says, cracking his neck... then looks at me firmly again. “What do you think of going out later...? It's been a while, and I really need a drink.”
“Yeah, sure...” I nod, and soon he's heading for the door, quickly leaving me alone with my own thoughts... with this guilt that's eating me inside.
I close my eyes tightly, bringing my hand up to my face.
Yeah... I really am the worst.
***
When I arrive at the bar that we usually frequent, Mike raises his hand, waving, so I can spot him in the inconspicuous crowd. And I walk over, sitting down on the stool next to him, leaning my arms on the bar, already with some weight on my mind... Because there's no chance of facing him sober anytime soon. I've had a few shots, so everything will be fine, right?
“You look terrible, my friend.” Mike says with a sarcastic smile, then nods to the bartender and orders a shot of whiskey that won't match the other drinks in my system... *but, who cares, right?*
“Things have been... odd.” I say with a dismissive gesture, and when the bartender puts down the shot of whiskey, I drink it all in one go — and strange enough, I don't feel my throat burning... it's like I'm drinking water.
“Really?” Mike murmurs, thoughtfully, bringing the glass to his own lips. “I go away for a few weeks and things get odd... a mess. Eric and Laura sleeping together, a relationship of years, a friendship so long... Who would have thought they'd stab my daughter in the back like that?”
Hah, my mouth is bittering again.
“Angelee seems quite affected by it. She's the most precious thing I have, you know... she's everything to me. That's why seeing her like this, so down... It really bothers me; I feel like I could die.”
*Suddenly, I also feel like I could die right now.*
“But she wouldn't open up to me... She said that she's fine, when she clearly has something on her mind.” Mike looks at me, holding the glass of whiskey firmly in his hand.
“I guess it's only natural, huh...? After all, she saw her boyfriend with her best friend in bed... A betrayal like that coming from her best friend is...” I swallow dry, expelling the word from my lips like it were too bitter, “Painful.”
“Yeah.” Mike nods softly, resting his eyes back on the counter, taking a sip of his whiskey, “It must be really painful.”
Fuck.
I wave my hand at the bartender and order another shot of whiskey — a double one.
There's not enough alcohol in my system to handle this shit I'm doing.
“Julian, I've been thinking...” He turns his eyes at me, and I freeze immediately, too afraid to look at him. “I'm going to ask you something... and I want you to be honest with me.”
I moisten my lips, inflating my lungs to the peak, trapping the air inside it... Then I bring my eyes to Mike again, to my best friend.
The best friend whose daughter I'm fucking.
“Yeah... go for it.” I nod, looking directly into his eyes. *I’m ready to face it.* “What do you want to ask me?”
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