Page 27 of Worship

“Not more than I hate you, baby.”

“I want a fucking divorce,” she screams at me as she turns to leave.

I grab the bag she’s holding and pull her close to me again, whispering my promise into her ear.

“Never. I’m going to ruin you. I hope he loves you, and I hope you love him because you’ll never get to be together. That’s my wedding gift to you, bride.”

“You’re the cruelest person I’ve ever known.”

She rips her bag from my hands and runs to the door.

“This is what happens when you play games with dangerous men, Shelby. You invite monsters into your life.”

“IBARELY MADE IT HERE—sorry, traffic was a nightmare,” I breathe out, coming to a stop on the top step of the entrance to Drew’s home. “Hi,” I say in an exhale.

She smiles at my flustered demeanor from the doorway.

“What can I do?” Drew asks, so I hand her a bag from my hand and follow her lead into her kitchen.

Setting the bag on the island, she turns and looks at me for direction.

“Get me a glass of wine and keep me company?” I say with a smile.

“On it!” Drew walks to their oversize refrigerator and pulls out a bottle of wine, then grabs a glass from the cabinet and pours.

I put the rest of the bags down and start unpacking everything.

“What are we having, Chef?” she jokes, handing me a glass of chilled white wine.

I take a sip, letting my nerves settle. They kicked in halfway to Drew’s. This feels like a date even though other people are around. The reality of what was really happening in my own head rattles me. I’m here for him. To be around him. He’s not mine, but I’ve claimed him, and I’m not so sure I’m giving him back.

“I’m making chicken parm, a little pasta, a little salad… A little this, a little that.” I do a tiny dance as I speak, and she laughs at me.

“Perfect, everyone should be here soon,” she remarks, pulling some gorgeously plated hors d’oeuvres from the refrigerator.

“Restaurant?” I grin to her.

“Duh.”

It’s so nice to be back here in this place with Drew. I feel as if I’ve been on autopilot, but now this feels like I’m present. I’m lucky to have her, even though I’ve been warring with myself all day about what I’m going to say to her about Luca. I’ve never kept anything from Drew, and if I start now, that just means that what he and I are doing is wrong.

“You seem happy. Like actually happy today.” Drew smiles, taking a sip of her wine.

“I am. It’s nice to not cringe at every happy moment. This feels oddly cathartic.” I grin.

“What’s changed? Just in the last few weeks because you’re brighter.” She leans onto the island and stares at me. I hate it when she does this. She wants to pry, question, and irritate the living shit out of me until she gets answers. I don’t want to give her answers. “Is there aguy!”

Oh shit.

Her words are like fireworks—she literally explodes with excitement, rounding the island to get closer to my face. A face that I can feel heat starting to spread across.

“Will you stop. Go away. Leave me alone to cook.” I try to shoo her.

“There is!” she practically screams. I lift my spatula at her and pretend to swat her face. “Spill it, G,” she begs.

“There isn’t any guy. I just had a conversation with a friend, and it made me look at stuff from a new perspective. That’s all.” I can’t even look at her while I tell my little white lie.

I hear the front door open and then commotion. “Nuh-uh,” she says, pointing a finger at me. “You’re lying.”