Page 33 of My Best Friend Is Broken

“Everything is just peachy, Duckling. Nicolo is here and wants to chat with me, but he is worried about some stupid mafia etiquette.”

Dario chuckles. “Nicolo is welcome in my house. I trust him with you.”

“Thank you, Duckling. I’ll let you get back to work.” Molly makes a kissing noise that feels far too intimate for me to be hearing.

Then, he puts his phone away and looks at me. “Can we have a bloody drink now?”

“Yes please!” I grin.

Molly always manages to cheer me up. I like him a lot. He is the same age as me and Liam, and that’s so refreshing. Everyone else in my life is older.

Molly leads me to the kitchen and pours us both a glass of red wine. It’s early, but damn do I need it.

“I thought your friend was getting out of prison?” Molly asks casually.

I gulp some wine down. “He was. He did. He… I just left him in a psychiatric hospital.”

Molly’s blue eyes widen. “Shit! What happened?”

“He’s not good. Prison broke him. He had a major panic attack while we were shopping, and an ambulance had to come…” I trail off.

Molly reaches over and places his hand over mine. He waits patiently ‌for me to say what I need to say.

But now I am here… I can’t. This was a stupid idea, and I don’t know what I was thinking.

“He… he said some things. I think he… In prison. I don’t know what to do or how to help. You… you… Riccardo wasn’t nice to you. I don’t know anyone else who has… been through anything similar.”

I drop my gaze. My stomach is heaving now. Oh my god. What the hell am I doing?

Molly’s hand squeezes mine. Startled, I look up. His eyes are watery, and his expression is strange.

“Oh Nicolo. You are such a sweetie. Thank you.”

“What…?” I stammer.

“Not to make it about me, but do you know how many people would completely dismiss what happened to me? Just because I’m gay and was a sex worker? And here you are treating it the same as what happened to your straight friend.”

“It is the same!” I splutter. I cannot believe anyone would be asshole enough to think otherwise.

Molly smiles at me.

“And I’m not sure about the straight part,” I blurt abruptly, surprising myself more than anyone.

His eyes widen. “Tell me more!”

I blush, but I don’t look away. “Before he went away, I don’t think it was just hero worship on my part. I think I was in love with him… And I think he might have felt something similar. I think it might have gone somewhere.”

Molly’s eyes are enormous.

“The way he looks at me sometimes. Some things he said. I don’t know.” I shrug.

“I do know!” exclaims Molly. “It’s a love story! He is going to get better, and you two are going to get married, and it’s going to be amazing!”

I laugh. Molly’s joy is infectious. It is igniting a small flickering flame of hope deep inside me.

“How do I help him?” I ask.

Molly’s grin falters. “I wish I knew.” He squeezes my hand again. “Love him. Keep him safe. The rest will just take time.”