Just Between Us

(This story contains adult language, drug abuse, criminal behavior)

“Speak now. Let’s hear it.” 

“I can’t.”

“Why can’t you?”

“I… I just can’t.” 

“Are you embarrassed?” 

“Maybe a little. But it’s more than that.” 

“Well, what? What else is it?” 

“It’s just insanely personal. And you wouldn’t understand.” 

“It’s just between you and me. No one else will ever know. You can trust me.” 

“Can I? Can I really? How do I know you aren’t just gonna go run and tell everyone else?” 

“We’ve been friends forever. Since we were in college. I mean, we even dated for a minute. Until you met Cara and dumped me. Why would I turn my back on you?” 

“I don’t know. You never know.” 

“Damn. I thought our friendship was deeper than that.” 

“It is. But you have to understand where I’m coming from.” 

“It would be easier to understand where you’re coming from if you would tell me what the fuck is going on.” 

A long pause followed by a sigh and a shake of the head. Long hair falling in her eyes, shielding her- keeping her from making eye contact that could see straight through her. 

“Your silence tells me so much more than you think it does.” 

“Well, then I guess I don’t have to speak now, do I?” 

“You’re such a smart ass. Quit being difficult. What did you do?” 

“I think you know the answer.”

“In the spirit of friendship and full disclosure, I feel like you need to be open and honest with me and tell me. Did you-”

“I did.” 

“Why?” 

“Because she did it first.”

“So two wrongs make a right now?” 

“No. But she did it first. Then came the constant accusations. So I felt like if I was going to be accused of doing it, why not do it?” 

“Childish.”

“You’re not wrong in that assessment.”

“So, do you feel guilty? Do you regret it?” 

“I regret staying too long. I regret that it got to the point where I felt justified in something I said I would never do.” 

“Do you love her?” 

“Which one?” 

“Either, I guess.” 

A shrug and a head shake. A sip of coffee. Silver ringed fingers pushing hair back off of an otherwise beautiful face, but today is haggard for lack of sleep. 

“Well? Do you love her?” 

“I thought I did.”

“Which one?”

“I guess, if I’m being honest, both.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am.”

“Both?” 

“Why not?”

“It just doesn’t seem like it’s a. Your style, or b. Truly feasible.”

“It’s not ‘my style,’ but it is feasible. Once Cara cheated with Sara-” 

“The girl Cara cheated with was Sara? Cara and Sara? Are you serious?” 

“Are we having this conversation or do you want to digress on something that inane?” 

“I’m sorry. Cara cheated with Sara. Got it.”

“Once Cara cheated on me with Sara, something broke. And then… I met Mina. And I didn’t think anything at first. I thought we were cool. We were friends. And then she was looking at me with that look. And It had been so long since Cara looked at me like that. And we had fun. So much fun together. We would laugh together. Cara hadn’t laughed or thought I was funny in so long. So … Yeah… It just happened. And I think I did love her.”

“Did?” 

“Maybe I still do.” 

“What about Cara?” 

“Apparently it’s a double standard. She was allowed to do what she did, but I wasn’t.” 

“So, she ended it just because of Mina?” 

Another sip of coffee and another shrug. 

“Was she angry?” 

“Hella angry. For sure. She threw her ring at me. Told me it was worthless.”

“And that was the last time you saw her?” 

“Mmmm? I’m sorry?” 

“The last time you saw her? It was then, when she threw her ring at you.” 

“I think so. Yeah.” 

“You think so, yeah?” 

“I mean, I spent like four days after that in an alcohol and pill induced haze.” 

“So, it’s possible you saw her after that, but you don’t know because you were fucked up?”

“I told you this is embarrassing. I had been clean for so long. But the thought of life without Cara was more than I could take. Even though I’m pretty sure neither of us were in love-”

“So you don’t love Cara?” 

“I wouldn’t call it in love. I have love for her. I mean, you don’t have over a decade with someone and not have love with them. But I was angry at her double standard. I was angry that she put me out. I was angry that… that… I don’t even know. I have no words for it.” 

“So you were angry?”

“Angry. Hurt. Yeah.” 

“How angry?” 

Another shrug. Another downcast look. 

“Angry enough to go back-” 

“Woah… Uh uh. No. You are not going-”

“You said it yourself. You were in a haze. You don’t know.”

“But I wouldn’t have-”

“How can you be so sure?” 

“Because I know myself.” 

“Your prints-”

“My prints are there because I used to live there. The fucking mortgage is in my name. Are you kidding me?” 

“I mean, there were no other prints but yours and hers. Were you really that fucked up? Truly? That you don’t remember-”

“You know me. You said it yourself. We were friends. We’ve been friends. And now you have me here, treating me like a suspect.”

“Because you are a suspect. The only suspect.” 

“I can’t believe you think-”

“I hate that I have to think that.”

“You don’t have to think that.” 

“How can I not?” 

“Because it’s your prints there. And you might be the last person who saw her.”

“But I couldn’t have… wouldn’t have… She didn’t deserve-”

“But you were angry. Hurt.”

“Don’t twist what I said. Don’t make it nefarious. Anyone would have felt that way.”

“But not everyone spent four days in a drug and pill induced-” Pictures are thrown down in front. Bloody. Gory. 

“Stop. Stop! Just stop it!”

“What? Why?” 

Scrambling out of the chair and backing to the door. “You are starting to confuse me. And twist it around. You have me questioning everything now.” 

“Are you leaving?”

“Am I under arrest?” 

“Frankie- Francesca Bronson, You are under arrest for the murder of Cara Thomas-Bronson.”