Chapter 77: Best Friends

The moment he thought Naomi needed him, nothing had seemed quite as urgent. Which was precisely the sort of thing Marianne would probably have enjoyed pointing out.

Dorian refused to think about that. "What happened?" he asked.

Naomi groaned loudly. "Ughhh..." She turned around and marched back into the bedroom.

Dorian followed her.

"Men are such cheating bastards!"

He stopped just inside the doorway. "Okay... But at the risk of sounding redundant, I’m a man. Easy with the stones."

Naomi turned back toward him. A weak smile finally appeared. "Sorry."

"I feel unfairly attacked, and I haven’t even been informed of the charges."

That earned him another tiny smile, but it disappeared quickly. Something really had happened. He could see it now.

Her eyes were slightly red. She looked frustrated and upset in that particular way Naomi did when her emotions were trying to outrun her mouth.

Normally, she would already have given him the entire story, including unnecessary background information.

Instead, she looked almost hesitant. He moved closer.

"Talk to me."

Naomi exhaled. Then she sat on the edge of the bed. He remained standing in front of her, waiting. She looked down at her hands for a moment before looking back up at him. "I know something that I shouldn’t know."

Of all the sentences she could have said, that one hit far too close to home.

Naomi sighed. "And I am having trouble keeping it to myself."

"Join the club," Dorian muttered as he shut the door behind him.

Naomi looked up. "What’s that?"

"Nothing." He cleared his throat. "I mean, that’s normal."

It was a terrible save, but fortunately Naomi was too distracted to notice. She sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed both hands over her face.

"No, it’s not so cut and dry. If I say nothing, I rob someone of information that may help their future decisions. If I do say something, I hurt them. Irreparably."

Dorian stared at her.

Well.

That was uncomfortably familiar. It almost felt like the universe was mocking him. Naomi was sitting there torn apart over whether to reveal a painful secret to someone she loved, while Dorian stood three feet away carrying one about her that could blow apart everything she thought she knew about herself.

Apparently they were both having the same terrible weekend. Just with different secrets.

"Uh..." He sat down beside her. "I’m guessing you found Tessa’s husband cheating?"

Naomi’s head snapped toward him. "How did you know that?"

"I did the math. You said men are cheating bastards. You’re upset enough to cry. You said the information affects someone else’s future decisions." He gave her a small smile. "There aren’t that many people you’d be this rattled over."

"That is actually creepy."

"It’s called paying attention." He slid an arm around her and pulled her closer.

Naomi went willingly, leaning into him. "She is my best friend. She has always been in my corner. Always helping me. When Jordan proposed, I got depressed because I thought he was taking her away from me. She’s perfect and good and angelic. She’s my best friend." She repeated that last part almost to herself.

As though the words themselves might tell her what she was supposed to do.

Dorian understood the problem.

Too well.

Sometimes loving someone didn’t tell you which truth they needed. Sometimes it only made the consequences heavier.

"It’s a tricky situation," he said. "She’s happy, no?"

"Yes!" Naomi pulled away enough to look at him. "Ugh... you should see her when she talks about him. She lights up. He is her sunshine."

Dorian frowned slightly. "And you’re afraid you’ll be the one who takes that away."

Naomi sighed. "Exactly."

"What do you think you should do?"

"I don’t know." She looked restless. Her hands moved aimlessly for a second before she suddenly reached for one of his feet.

Dorian looked down. "What are you doing?"

"I need to do something with my hands."

Apparently that something was undressing him piece by piece. She pulled off one of his shoes and dropped it onto the floor.

Then the other.

Dorian watched her with mild amusement. "You know, most people use stress balls."

She ignored him and tugged off one sock. "I went to the commercial kitchen today for a tour..."

Dorian stayed quiet. He understood now. This was how Naomi processed things.

Talking.

Moving.

Doing something ordinary while her brain worked through something that wasn’t. She took off his other sock and tossed it beside the first.

"The kitchen is beautiful. Modern. Everything I need is already there. I made the deposit. And I signed the rental contract...."

Naomi reached for his jacket next. He lifted his arms slightly to help her. She pulled it off his shoulders and laid it beside her.

All the while, she kept talking, as if dressing him down into comfort was the most natural thing in the world.

Dorian shrugged off his shirt and settled back against the pillows while Naomi kept talking. He nodded where necessary, hummed occasionally and let her work through it at her own pace.

"How could he do such a thing?" she asked. "He didn’t even bother to hide it." She gathered his discarded clothes from the floor, folded them neatly and placed them over the arm of the chair before sitting down.

"Maybe something is wrong with the marriage."

Naomi looked at him. "A three-month-old marriage?"

"Things can go wrong quickly."

"We have been married longer than they have been."

Dorian chuckled. "Our marriage is not a yardstick to weigh against other people’s marriage, Naomi."

"I know." She threw both hands into the air and got back to her feet. "But three months? Seriously? That’s still supposed to be the stage where you’re obsessed with each other." She sighed and walked toward the bed.

Dorian shifted slightly to make room for her. What struck him was that she hadn’t really fussed about his absence.

After all the calls and worry, the moment he came through her door, they had simply slipped back into their usual rhythm.

Existing in the same space as though there had never been a break in it.

"Come here," he said, opening his arms.