Filed to story: Submitting to My Bestie’s Daddy Read Online >>???
This way I could wait until Giovani came home, until he came in with that smile I loved and right by his side would be my best friend. I’d imagined it all already. I’d hug the life out of her, crying, and she’d tell me not to be a crybaby. I’d tell her everything I had been hiding from her, beg for her forgiveness, and hope to God I was lucky enough that she would forgive me.
We’d be okay, and she’d be safe and happy and everything would be perfect. This could all be some bad dream that we could leave in the past, a joke maybe in ten years or so, but nothing more than a memory.
Everything would be fine.
But when the door opened and Giovani stepped inside, he was alone.
His eyebrows were furrowed again like he had a headache, and there were red spots on his white shirt that had me getting right to my feet.
“Are you–” I paled, my eyes stuck at the spots of red.
He blinked at me as if confused before following my gaze to the blood. Realization dawned in his eyes, and he gave me a guilty look. “It’s not mine,” he said firmly. “I’m not hurt.”
I breathed a sigh of relief, not even bothering to question whose blood it was then. I assumed that if it was Dahlia’s, he’d tell me. Eagerly, I took a step forward, and my eyes trailed behind him, hoping that Dahlia would pop out with that sheepish grin of hers.
But she didn’t.
Giovani was alone.
I met his eyes, questioning my best friend’s missing presence, and a flash of guilt ran through his. He turned his head away, gazing at the floor in shame, and my breath caught in my throat.
No.
There was no way.
I glanced at the spots of blood on his shirt, and I lost all the strength in my legs. My knees clacked together, and I grasped the banister to keep from collapsing to the floor. I stared at the red spots, unable to believe my eyes.
Could it be Dahlia’s blood after all?
No. He would have told me. But the images of her body, broken, bruised, and lifeless, was more than I could bear. My legs shook, and I nearly went to the floor at the thought–Dahlia, my best friend, dead and bleeding out while I was here safe and warm.
There was no way. She couldn’t be.
“Is…” I swallowed, uncomfortably, gazing up at him with wide and shocked eyes. “Is she dead?”
His face fell in surprise, and I feared the worst for a whole second.
It felt like the floor had fallen out beneath me, opening up a black hole to swallow me.
I was just falling and falling endlessly, and I didn’t know where I’d land.
My vision dimmed as I swore the spots of red on his shirt were growing and spreading. Her blood was pooling all over the floor, threatening to drown me, and I swayed to the side before his voice cut through the fear, shame, guilt, and despair.
“No.” The simple word was enough to ground me and bring me back to life.
“No,” he repeated, shaking his head furiously. He wasted no time in stepping forward. He swept me into his arms, and I clung to him like a child.
My hands were shaking as I clasped them around his shirt, and he easily stopped me from falling over. “No. She’s alive.”
“She is?” I asked, my voice trembling and muffled from where I had buried my face in his shirt.
“Yes, carino, yes,” Giovani breathed against my hair, his fingers burying themselves into my locks as he gripped me just as hard as I was holding onto him. “She’s alive. I promise you that, but–”
I let out a shaky breath I didn’t know I had been holding. I should have been relieved, but I knew that when somebody had attached a ‘but’ onto a sentence, nothing he said after would be good. I stiffened in his embrace before I finally got the courage to ask. “But?” I prompted, hoping he didn’t say what I thought he would say.
“But she’s missing,” Giovani sighed.
A sob escaped my throat, whether of relief that she was still alive or the despair of having her missing, I didn’t know. I buried my head into his chest and I cried.
He ran his fingers gently through my hair, not questioning me in the slightest as I cried for my best friend once more.
*Olivia*
I didn’t know how long we stood there in the quiet foyer. The only sound was my muffled sobs into the fabric of his shirt. Giovani held me close, letting me lean on him as I cried.
I could feel his fingers trailing through my half-dried hair. I hadn’t bothered to use a hair dryer because I had been too worried for Dahlia and him. I shivered, driving myself closer into his arms as the temperature continued to drop through the night.
Only in a hoodie, I stepped between Giovani’s legs, shielding my bare skin from the sudden chill.
It could have been minutes or hours, but eventually, I pulled out of his grasp. His gentle fingers landed under my chin, tilting my head up to meet his.
His brown eyes were filled with sorrow and guilt, but the same kindness and compassion I always saw.
“You okay?” he murmured.
I reached up to wipe my tears away with the sleeves of my hoodie, sniffling. I probably looked terrible, and my face would be swollen from how much I had been crying.
“I know this is a lot to take in,” Giovani sighed. “I shouldn’t have said anything–”
I shook my head. “No, I’m glad you told me. Not knowing would be so much worse. I’m just emotional right now.”
I stepped back from him, my socked feet slipping a bit on the wooden floors. I grasped his arm, stabilizing myself to keep from falling.
“Are you okay to stand now?” Giovani asked, sending me a concerned look as I pulled away.
I gave him a strained smile, grasping my hands back under the long sleeves of my hoodie as I pulled them behind my back.
“I’m okay,” I assured him. “I’m just tired.”
Giovani gave me an unconvinced look but didn’t question me anymore. I was thankful for that tiny mercy as I didn’t think I could put my feelings into words at the moment.
It was like every emotion I had ever experienced had been thrown into a blender, and I couldn’t tell which was which anymore. I just had this blob mess of emotion in my chest, bleeding out through my eyes.
I rubbed the corners of my eyes as Giovani wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me to his side.
“Let’s get you to bed,” he said quietly.
I let him lead me up the stairs, and I clung to the ends of his shirt, feeling foolish like a child, but the comfort was something I needed right now.
He felt like a furnace as he walked beside me, close enough that I could lean on him if I needed to. I felt like I was developing into a popsicle, and his heat was just what I needed to keep me from freezing.
For a moment, I wished this was all a horrible nightmare. Maybe I had just fallen asleep in his bed, and we were still cuddling close together under his covers.
Wishful thinking wouldn’t help Dahlia, though. Reality was a hard pill to swallow, and I felt like it was choking me.
