It was a weekend so she was probably sleeping. After a couple of minutes of gentle knocking, I heard her lazily drag her slippers toward the door. She opened and looked at me with confused but squinting eyes that quickly turned annoyed, like she was asking me why the fuck was I at her door at 8 am.
All I could do was stretch my arm and open my palm with the necklace inside it. I talked, but heard it come as a mere whisper. “Is this yours?”
Her lazy eyes looked at it for a while, before they coldly looked upwards into mine. I held her stare, trying to gain any resemblance of an answer from her brown eyes which staid boldly still. I saw nothing of use, so I asked again, “Is this yours.”
“Well…it’s yours now.” She shrugged and yawned. “You know what hour it is?”
I had no idea where I got this instinct, but my arm instinctively raised, my hand tightened into a fist and I threw a punch, and given that I hadn’t thrown a punch ever since I came out of my mother, I missed her, getting only the edge of her chin. She recoiled, getting her squinting eyes wide open and shocked. I lunged at her and started throwing punches mindlessly in the air.
“The fuck?” She shouted while she retreated back carefully avoiding my barrage. “Calm the fuck down Ju—” My fist found a spot on her lower jaw, and she stood there rubbing it for a second before she looked at me, her eyes seeming ready to fight. I however, froze, realizing the simple fact that Morgan could easily beat my ass.
“I’m calm…” I said, trying to comfort her as she walked the few steps between us. “I’m cal—” She snatched my head like a damn football and effortlessly threw me to the ground. One second I was looking at her the other I was laying on the floor with my head spinning. I had only started rising to my knees when she kicked my shoulder and sent me to the floor again falling on my back. “Morgan.” I whined.
She stood above me with her feet near my head and stooped down to look me in the eye. “You done throwing punches or I need to kick your ass out of here.” She gave her jaw a stretch, probably trying to ease the pain away.
“I’m done,” I said looking away from her.
She nodded, then straightened up and walked to the kitchen. I got myself to a sitting position but stayed on the ground. I looked at her while she put the kettle on. I ignored the aching in the top of my stomach at the relaxing nature with which she was acting. “Tell me it’s not true.”
“It is.” She said before leaning against her fridge and looking dead at me. “I’m fucking your husband.”
I froze there, surprised at my ability to not give any reaction more than hearing the words she’d just said. I just sat there with my hands calmed together over my knee as she stood in her kitchen waiting for her coffee to be done brewing.
“Coffee?” she said.
“…I’m good.” I looked at the ground.
She shrugged, then poured her cup and made her way to the couch in front of me. She sat crossing one leg over the other holding her coffee mug on her lap. I looked up at her, waiting for her to say something. An explanation. A confession. I didn’t know what I was waiting to hear, but I was waiting for something, anything.
“Why?” I said, my eyes not able to look up from her dangling slipper.
“Does it matter?” She took a sip.
I swallowed, dreading the answer to my following question. “Do you love him?”
“Pufft.” She recoiled back with an animated chuckle. “Bitch please, don’t insult me.”
My jaw clenched at her. Insult you? That was the only possible reason, why else would you fucking do this to your best friend. “Then why?”
She rolled her eyes, pursing her lips and shaking her head like she was trying to find some trivial reason just to satisfy me. “Just because.”
“Morgan.”
“I’m doing you a favor honey, trust me.”
Quickly losing hope of her making any sense, I wrapped my hands around my head and buried my face in my knees, wishing I would wake up.
“I’m not the first woman he cheated on you with alright. At least now it’s not some random broad from the street. Better me than some stranger right?”
“You’re insane,” I said. “Insane.”
“I’m not the one married to him honey,” She said.
“You were my friend.”
“I still am…believe it.”
A snicker escaped me, as I looked up at her with narrow eyes, trying to see if she was really serious.
“What?” she chuckled.
“We’re done.”
“…You’re leaving me for that thing,” She narrowed her eyes questionably, and I didn’t know if she meant Mark or the fact that she cheated. “Really?”
“I’m just trying to figure out how I never managed to see all along those years that you’re a sicko.” I said as I slowly got to my feet. I gave her a final long look. I’d probably talk to her again, but not before a long while. For now, I just need to get home and try to make my peace with my new revelation. “You can fuck him as much as you like. But don’t think about even passing near my home. I don’t want to ever see you again.”
Her cold look didn’t change, until her mouth curled into an irritated smirk, like I was being unreasonable or something.
I walked to the door and before I turned the knob, she said, “I can enter your house whenever I want to Judy, make your peace with that.”
That was the first true shock of the day, hearing her say that. I turned slowly, with my eyes full of disgust. “What?”
“You heard me.” She said coldly. “I can probably kick you out if I want to as well, so I think you better be a bit nicer to me, act a bit more respectful.”
My head was torn, between thinking about whether or not she was serious or not, and whether or not Mark would do such a thing to me. I mean, he was a cheater, but there was no way. “In your dreams.” I took a confident step towards her. “Mark’s maybe an asshole, guided by his dick or whatever, but I know he still cares about me. You bring it up to him and he’ll probably leave your ass at the spot.”
She pouted sarcastically at me, seeming to hold off a giggle. “…You’re still a little girl inside aren’t you.”
“Fuck you.”
“That’s no way to get on my good side Judy,” She rose to her feet then started walking towards me. “I’ll give you a while to adjust, adjust and find out how much of an asshole your husband really is. Alright.” She said as she opened the door for me. “Then, given that I know you’re too fucking weak and too much of a coward to go and try to live in the world, I’ll put you under my wing. Don’t worry, like I said we’re still friends. I’ll protect you, and I’ll have you eating out of my hand in your own house while I do it.”
The fuming excitement in her eyes scared me as much as the words themselves. “Who the fuck are you?”
“You’re right. Let’s put our friendship on hold for now, just for a while. There’s something I just need to do now.”
“…You’re sick.” I spat my final insult and rushed out of there on trembling knees. Her final threats really got to me. There was no chance in hell that she’d be able to do that, I wasn’t even sure she really wanted to, but regardless, the slim possibility, the image of her in my house leisuring freely against my consent and rubbing my face in it, made me want to vomit.