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It was easy for Maggie to say. She was happily married. Her parents were still together. She’d never had to deal with betrayal and cheating bastards. Maggie had never given her heart to a man and had it handed back to her slashed in strips.
Simon’s affair confounded Amy. For two years, they’d been as close and as in love as two people could be. Amy had moved in with him after twelve months. They’d even looked into buying an apartment together.
Thank God they hadn’t.
Still, Maggie was right. Daniel wasn’t Simon. He’d never cheat on her. Nope, he would treat her like cherished gold—until he grew bored of their fun and games.
“Don’t you see, Mags? Whatever the reason, I never want to risk my friendship with him. I’m not willing to give him up for a temporary fling.”
“Who’s to say it would be temporary?”
She stared at her friend, not bothering to answer. They both knew Daniel only did temporary.
“Okay,” Maggie conceded. “But don’t you think last night the two of you crossed some line? It might be hard to go back to being friends now.”
“Hard, but not impossible,” Amy said with vehemence. “Especially if it means I’m going to save a friendship in the process.”
“And you think Daniel will accept that? He’s no pushover. If he wants to make something of last night, he will.”
“I’ll make sure he doesn’t.” Amy reached for the phone. “It’s time we spoke about it anyway. I’ll be damned if I’m going to let one incident ruin a lifetime of friendship.” She punched in Daniel’s number.
Maggie stood up. “I’ll give you some privacy.”
“Thanks for listening.”
“Any time.”
Amy waited on a bench on the promenade above Coogee Beach. The coldness of the winter evening seemed to have little effect on the activity around her. A group of noisy teenagers yelled and laughed as they ate fish and chips on the grass. Beside them, a dad played soccer with his two sons. In front of her, the paved path was packed with joggers and walkers.
She checked her watch. It was still a little early. The sun hadn’t quite set, and the sky behind her was strewn with orange and pink clouds. She’d arranged to meet Daniel at five thirty, and it was only a quarter past now, which gave her a few minutes to think about what she had to tell him.
It was simple. Last night, they’d made a mistake. She wanted Daniel to be her friend, not her lover. She’d lay her cards on the table. Tell him that nothing more would happen between them. Their relationship would proceed platonically. Period.
Maggie’s astute insight about Simon had thrown her. Was her friend right? Was she confusing him with Simon? How could she? The two were so different.
Daniel was trustworthy. Simon wasn’t.
There’d never been any love lost between the two men. They’d never seen eye to eye. But Daniel had given Simon a chance—for her sake. Simon had made no effort to get along with Daniel. There were even times he’d complained that Daniel was a threat to their relationship.
That wasn’t new to her. It had been a recurring problem in all her relationships. Men always seemed to be uneasy about her friendship with Daniel.
She’d thought Simon would get past his ridiculous misconception. Daniel had been as much of a risk to their relationship as Maggie. It was ironic that Simon had been so threatened by another man. In the end, he’d been the one to be unfaithful.
She shouldn’t have been surprised. Men cheated all the time. Why should Simon be any different?
Because she’d desperately wanted him to be different, that’s why. She’d desperately wanted a healthy, long-term relationship with a faithful man.
But in the space of a single heartbeat, the relationship had ended. The pain and the humiliation lasted a whole lot longer.
And if the ache in her belly was anything to go by now, they hadn’t passed yet.
Thank God for Daniel. He’d been her rock after the breakup. More than once, he’d held her while she cried, her tears leaving great wet blobs on his shirts.
When the anger had set in, she’d screamed and ranted and raved, hurling glasses and dishes at the wall, envisioning Simon’s face wherever they hit. Daniel had started serving her food and drinks in plastic plates and cups, complaining good-naturedly that he was sick of replacing his glasses every time she visited.
Slowly, the rage had subsided, and she’d started to get over the asshole. But the pain still went on and on.
Thanks to Simon—and her father—Amy had lost her ability to trust men. The fear of hurt and betrayal was too strong. And even worse than that, because of Simon and her father, Amy now found herself questioning her trust in her closest friend.