GUILT
LAURA
I closed the door to Josh’s room as quietly as I could, my chest heaving like I’d just run a marathon. My legs felt shaky, my hands trembling as I pressed them against the cool wood for support. The air in the hallway was stifling, thick with everything. I’d just done.
What the hell was wrong with me?
I was supposed to be here for Jess. Jess. My best friend. And instead, I’d—
My stomach churned violently, and I bit down on my lip hard enough to taste blood. I needed to move. I needed to do something, anything, to wash away the guilt clawing its way up my throat.
I stumbled down the hall and into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. The sound of the lock clicking into place gave me a fleeting sense of security, but it was quickly replaced by the suffocating weight of my actions.
I turned the shower on full blast, not waiting for the water to warm up. The icy spray hit my skin, and I gasped, but I didn’t step away. Instead, I grabbed the loofah and soap and scrubbed. Hard.
It wasn’t enough.
No matter how much I washed, no matter how red my skin
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turned, I couldn’t rid myself of the shame. I’d slept with Josh. Jess’s brother.
Her brother, for crying out loud.
I squeezed my eyes shut as the events of the night played on a loop in my head. His hands, his mouth, the way he’d looked at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered. For a moment, I’d let myself believe it.
But I couldn’t anymore.
The shower did little to cleanse the guilt, but I finally stepped out, wrapping a towel around myself as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes were red–rimmed, my cheeks flushed from the heat of the water and the tears I’d refused to let fall.
“Get it together, Laura,” I whispered to myself.
I dressed quickly, pulling on a pair of leggings and an oversized hoodie before heading downstairs. The kitchen was dark, but I didn’t bother turning on the lights. Instead, I moved on autopilot, grabbing the coffee pot and setting it to brew.
The soft gurgle of the machine filled the silence, and I leaned against the counter, gripping the edge so hard my knuckles turned white.
How could I have done this?
Jess trusted me. She invited me into her home, into her life, and I’d repaid her by crossing the one line I shouldn’t have.
I shook my head, disgusted with myself. It didn’t matter what Josh had said or how he’d made me feel. It could never happen
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again. It wouldn’t happen again.
The coffee finished brewing, and poured two cups, adding cream and sugar to one just the way Jess liked it. I was going to tell her. She deserved to know the truth, even if it ruined
everything.
I carried the mugs to her room, sat down, waiting for her. My heart was pounding, my palms sweating.
When Jess finally walked into her bedroom, I froze. She looked tired, her hair a mess, her eyes rimmed with exhaustion. She stopped when she saw me sitting there, and for a moment, I thought she could see right through me.
“Hey,” I said softly, pushing the mug toward her.
Jess sank into the chair across from me, wrapping her hands around the cup but not drinking. She stared at the window, her expression distant.
“I need to tell you something,” I began, my voice trembling.
But Jess cut me off. “Me first,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
I swallowed hard, nodding. “Okay.”
She took a deep breath, her hands tightening around the mug. “Bryan… he… he tried to force me.”
Her words hit me like a freight train, and my stomach dropped.
“What?” I whispered, my voice cracking.
Jess nodded, her lips trembling. “We went to the park after the
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dinner, and he… he wouldn’t take no for an answer. He chased me through the park. I managed to get away and ended up at a diner. The waitress there helped me call someone.” She paused, her voice shaking. “I remembered Luke’s number. I don’t even know how, but I did. He came and got me.”
I felt like I couldn’t breathe. My eyes darted to my phone, sitting uselessly on the dresser upstairs. Switched off.
“I’m so sorry, Jess,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. “It could have been… you could have been…”
Jess shook her head quickly, stopping me mid–sentence. “But I wasn’t,” she said firmly. “And it didn’t happen.”
Her words were meant to reassure me, but I could see it–the crack in her armor, the brokenness in her eyes.
I reached across the room, grabbing her hand. “Jess…”
She gave me a small, shaky smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I m okay, Laura. Really.”
I wanted to believe her. I wanted to believe that everything would be fine. But deep down, I knew things would never be the same–for either of us.
And as I sat there, holding her hand, the guilt inside me grew even heavier.
