London Falling by Audrey Carlan

at the local community center. James had passed a few months before and I was attending a meeting for grieving widows. Tripp was attending Narcotics Anonymous. He was only a few months into his own recovery. Between us, we were like the walking dead. Two lifeless shells, devoid of any real feeling. Then we teamed up. Together we were able to stick a band-aid over our past wounds. Sometimes it was in one another’s bodies, but mostly it was through a deep friendship. He helped me live again. And I helped him have a reason to live.
    I threw the shirt on and slid into bed next to him. He slept naked and his warmth was the most comfortable place in the world. Well, that and the crook of space where my head fit perfectly into Collier’s neck and shoulder.
    Tossing out that thought I snuggled closer to my best friend. His arm flung over my waist pulling me close, chest-to-chest. He burrowed his huge arm under the back of the shirt I was wearing and rubbed my spine. I arched and purred into his caress. He kissed my forehead, eyes still closed as if asleep.
    “What’s the matter?” His voice was groggy. He didn’t open his eyes, just held me and rested against my body. The tips of his fingers massaged my scalp, soothing the stress as I held onto him.
    “I screwed up.” The words came out small and quiet but I knew he heard them.
    He mumbled something against my forehead. I only caught the last bit. "…did something with Bond,” he finished.
    I nodded against his chest. Tears pooled and slipped down my cheeks wetting his skin. That got his attention.
    “Bridge, baby. What happened?” He held me as the dam broke and I sobbed, unable to bring forth the words I needed to say.
    “Did he hurt you? I’ll fucking kill him.” His entire body tightened like a rubber-band pulled too far at opposite ends. I clung to him, wanting, trying to get the words out.
    “No, h-he didn’t h-hurt me,” I whispered as more tears streamed down my face. He kissed them away.
    “Did you hurt him?” Tripp knew me too well. Sympathy poured from him as he clenched me tight against his body. “It can’t be that bad. You only had one night.”
    “It was the best night of my life.”
    It hurt so much to say that. So many nights I had with James ought to fill that spot so high on a pedestal, but it was true. One night with Collier surpassed even the height of the nights of my marriage. Maybe I was starting to forget. My wedding day, the first time James and I made love, all vied for clarity, but the memories were growing old, worn from overuse. Now they seemed as if they happened a century ago. Only the memory of feeling happy could be brought to the surface with ease.
    His eyebrows rose and shock plastered his face. “That’s a strong statement.”
    I nodded and sighed.
    “Then why are you upset? What brought you to my bed? Not that I mind. I love snuggling with my best girl.” He pulled me up and over his naked body. Sprawled across his chest, I placed one hand on top of the other on his chest then rested my chin on him. I couldn’t stop my lips from quivering or the tears from spilling as he searched my eyes for the answer.
    “I gave him hope.”

    ***
    A week later and nothing. I’ve worn a hole in the carpet in front of my desk pacing. I obsessively checked my phone for recent or missed calls, a text, an email perhaps, anything to prove I hadn’t lost her. I’d gone over that morning ad nauseam. There’s nothing I’d change save for the moment when I told her to call me. Then, I wouldn’t be feeling like a bloody idiot for the past week.
    “Bugger! I can’t take it anymore!” I pulled at the strands of my hair, making an arse of myself.
    “What has your willy in a wrinkle? You’ve been a bit of a prick all week.” Nathaniel’s cheery English timber broke my brooding.
    “You want the truth or the twisted happenings I’ve got going on now in my head?”
    Nate unbuttoned his sport coat and sat down. “Truth.” He