I dropped my gaze to the tabletop and studied the condensation rings left in the wood from years of cold drinks. I traced one with my finger as I counted down the seconds until this song was over and things wouldn’t feel so weird with my best friend sitting next to me.
Movement from the corner of my eye had me looking up to see Ella watching me. I offered her a weak smile before dropping my gaze once more.
Heat washed over me as I felt Ella lean close. “Wanna dance?” she whispered.
If there hadn’t been a lull in the song, I might have missed her question entirely. Man, I wished I hadn’t heard what she’d asked. It was one thing to reject Ella’s text. It was a whole other thing to reject her to her face.
That was one thing I wasn’t capable of doing.
I did the most idiotic thing since declaring my feelings for her–I looked up. Her eyes were wide, and her gaze shy as she studied me. There was something so familiar about the look in her eyes, and at the same time, there was so much that was different. We’d been friends for so long, but our previous friendship had died.
I feared what had replaced it. Could we continue to be friends? I’d thought we would be able to move on from this awkward stage, but now I wasn’t so certain.
Not wanting to overanalyze what was going on between us, I let my mind still and just answered from my heart.
“Yes,” I said as I extended my hand.
She paused before she set her hand in mine and allowed me to help her down from the barstool. I led her onto the dance floor, not letting go of her hand. This was the first time in weeks that I’d felt close to Ella, and I needed it.
My soul needed it.
Once I found a small opening on the floor, I turned to face her. Her gaze slowly lifted to meet mine as I stepped closer. My left hand found her waist, and I turned my right hand so I could cradle hers. She brought her other hand to my shoulder and rested it there.
We danced in silence for a few seconds. I wondered if she wanted me to talk, but I also feared what I might say if I did, so I just kept quiet. I wasn’t sure where to look, so I spent the time with her pulled in close, staring above her head. I hated the tension that had built up between us. I wished that I could make things go back to normal, but I was beginning to accept that normal was no longer possible for us. And that made me sad.
“Why are you changing?” Ella’s voice was soft, and I almost missed her question. I glanced down to see that she was staring up at me. She looked so…sad. And it broke me.
“What do you mean?” I asked as I pulled her closer to me to avoid running her into another couple.
I felt her body tense for a moment before she relaxed. “You love meat. You eat bacon every morning for breakfast. And how on earth do you make a cake without eggs in it?”
She glanced up at me, and for the first time in a long time, I saw the Ella I’d known for so many years. The Ella that would fight me until her last breath if she thought she was in the right.
And maybe if our relationship hadn’t fundamentally changed, her statements wouldn’t have been so startling. But our relationship was different. So much so, that hearing what she had to say made my skin hot. She was holding a magnifying glass to my relationship with Coralie and listing off all the reasons we shouldn’t be together like she was some expert at love.
“You make concessions when you’re in love,” I said.
She blinked. “Really? Changing fundamental things about yourself is making aconcession?” She shook her head. “She shouldn’t be asking you to change like that. She should be accepting you.”
It hurt me that she saw Coralie this way. It hurt to hear what she truly thought. I wanted these important women in my life to get along, but neither of them was willing to accept the other. Coralie didn’t want Ella around, and I was getting the impression Ella felt the same about Coralie.
“What about…Chad? Was that his name? Does he accept you fully?” If she thought I’d forgotten about Mr. Bar Guy, she had another thing coming.
Her eyes were wide as she stared up at me. “That’s different,” she said.
I scoffed. “Different? How? He seems like just another Scott.” I shook my head. “I may make concessions, but you pick bad apples.” The words were spilling from my lips before I could stop them. But if she wanted to get honest, I could get honest.
Her eyes were wide, and I could see her processing what I’d said. “Thank you for finally telling me what you really think of my dating life,” she said, her voice quiet and reserved. “I may make mistakes, but at least I don’t get engaged to them.”
I may be drowning myself in mistakes, but one thing was for sure, Coralie wasn’t going to be one of them. My marriage to her was going to make a lot of people happy. I would make sure of it.
“Marrying Coralie isn’t a mistake,” I said as I narrowed my eyes. “And if you were a true friend, you’d support me in my happiness.”
My words seemed to startle her. Her lips parted slightly as if she were moments away from speaking but was reanalyzing what she was going to say.
“Are you really happy?” she asked.
I started to nod, but then she shook her head.
