Affair with my Bestfriend's Dad

Ellie’s POV “Come on, Ellie, stop crying over him. He’s not worth a single damn tear.” Beth’s voice was sharp, but not cruel. That kind of voice came from knowing someone too well and trying to not let them fall apart. I was curled up on my bed, clutching tightly to the throw pillow like it could hold me together. Beth was seated by the edge of the bed next to me watching me unravel while rubbing my shoulders in a bid to comfort me. My bedroom looked like ‘heartbreak-central’ with crumpled tissues all over my bed, dim lighting, yesterday’s clothes on the floor, and the ghost of a love that had just shattered. “I loved him,” I whispered, sounding fragile. “I f*****g did.” “How could he do this to me?” Beth sighed, rubbing her palm over her forehead like the weight of my heartbreak had given her migraine. “Honestly, El… I’m sorry but I think you should have seen this coming.” I looked up, blinking through the tears. “What?” She hesitated, biting her bottom lip, something she always did when she knew her mouth had moved faster than her filter. “Damon… I don’t know. He always seemed like the type who needed a lot of attention. And you, well, you’re not exactly the clingy girlfriend type.” “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I asked, slowly sitting up straighter. “Nothing! Jeez, don’t bite my head off.” Beth glanced at me. “I’m just saying, you were always holding back. You’re guarded, El. Like, emotionally. Physically. All of it.” I blinked. The air felt suddenly hotter. “So I’m too much and not enough at the same time?” “That’s not what I meant.” Her voice softened, but the damage was already done. “I just mean you’ve always been careful and reserved, you know. You don’t throw yourself at people. And Damon…” She exhaled slowly. “He’s the type who wants everything on his terms. If you don’t give him what he wants, he’ll go find it somewhere else.” My chest tightened. “We were together for two years, Beth. That wasn’t enough?” “I’m not blaming you!” she said quickly. “I’m just saying maybe it felt like too many rules for him. Maybe he wanted something less… careful.” That stung me hard “So you’re saying I was too careful? Too difficult? That I pushed him into someone else’s bed?” “That’s not fair…” “No, Beth, what’s not fair is being loyal to someone who was sexting another girl while I was seated right f*****g next to him.” My voice cracked again, raw and rising. Beth winced. “I’m sorry, okay? That was a shitty thing to say.” “You think?” I rolled my eyes at her, putting my head back on my pillow of tears. “I feel so stupid,” I said after a short silence Beth reached out, hesitating before her fingers brushed mine. “You weren’t stupid. You were in love. These men out here are just f*****g scumbags and one thing they would do is act like one.” I turned to the other side, facing away from Beth. There was a stretch of silence between us before I felt her pull away A few minutes later, I heard the soft creak of the bedroom door open again. “I come bearing emotional support,” she said lightly, holding up a pint of mint chocolate chip and two spoons like a peace offering. I turned to see what she brought and despite myself, my lips tugged at the corners. “You always bring ice cream when I cry,” I said, sitting up on the bed. “And it always helps.” She plopped down next to me, her shoulder brushing mine as she cracked open the lid. She handed me a spoon without looking, a ritual we’d done a thousand times. We dug in, eating ice cream blissfully like it was going to solve all our problems. Beth nudged me gently. “You know what you need?” “A lobotomy?” She grinned. “Close. You need a change of scenery.” I looked at her, spoon still in my mouth. “Come to LA with me,” she said suddenly. “For the summer. My dad’s barely ever home, the house is huge, and the guest room is prettier than our apartment. We can lay by the pool, drink fruity things with umbrellas, flirt with guys who think they are stars just because they live in Los Angeles…” She chuckled. I blinked. “Beth, you hate LA.” “Correction,” she said, shaking her head no. “I hate living there full-time. But two months of sun, silence, and stupid hot strangers? That I can do. Especially with you.” I hesitated. The idea sounded impossible. Too easy since it was far away from the mess I was still tangled in. “What about your dad?” I asked. “He won’t care,” she said quickly. “He’s working on some big production. The house is just sitting there, bored out of its mind. It needs us.” She bumped my shoulder again, more playful this time. “Come on, El. You and me. LA. We’ll eat disgusting amounts of takeout, burn under the sun, and maybe you’ll even let me set you up with someone who knows how to spell monogamy.” I laughed, really laughed, for the first time that evening. I scooped another bite of mint chocolate chip into my mouth and leaned my head against the edge of the bed. “I can’t just run away for the summer, Beth.” She frowned. “It’s not running. It’s healing. With poolside playlists and maybe a questionable tan.” I shook my head. “I need to get a job. Something… grounding.” My voice was quieter now. “I can’t just escape to your billionaire Barbie DreamHouse while my life’s in ruins.” Beth rolled her eyes. “Please. You think working at a coffee shop all summer will fix your trust issues? El, you’ll just end up crying into iced lattes while some guy named Brad flirts with you and then the barista after your shift.” I snorted despite myself. “I’m serious,” she continued, nudging my knee with hers. “If a summer job’s the issue, I can handle that. My dad’s company always has something open: PA work, assistant gigs, script reading, whatever. It’s LA, babe. Land of unpaid interns and overpaid coffee fetchers. And since you’re neither, he’ll pay you a decent salary and let you do real work.” I blinked. “Your dad’s like… a Hollywood CEO. I can’t just waltz into his company like some charity case.” Beth leaned in, dramatic. “First of all, you’d be doing actual work, not charity. Second of all…” She tapped her chest. “He’s my dad. Which means he’s genetically programmed to say yes to anything I ask. Especially if I use the pout.” I laughed. “The pout doesn’t work anymore.” “Maybe not on you, but it melts him. Trust me, he’s putty. I got him to cancel a Cannes trip once because I wanted to see him on my birthday. He cried. Real tears.” We both laughed out loud. “You’re seriously offering me a job from your dad so I’ll come hang out in LA with you?” She gave me a long look, then shrugged like it was obvious. “Of course I am. What else is a best friend for?” I looked at the half-empty pint between us. I looked at her: no makeup, hoodie way too big for her tiny frame, face open and hopeful in that rare Beth way she only pulled out when something actually mattered. And maybe… maybe it was okay to say yes. Just not tonight. “I’ll think about it,” I said softly. Beth grinned and nudged the ice cream toward me. “Please say yes Ellie, you know you are the only one that knows how to take care of me.” I smiled, of course, she wasn’t just inviting me due to altruism. That night, I cried myself to sleep. I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, God knows I told myself not to, but the truth was, finding out Damon had been cheating on me broke something I wasn’t ready to name. Two years. That’s how long we’d been together. Two years of planning our future, talking about where we’d live after college, what kind of dog we’d get, and how many kids we wanted. I should’ve seen it coming. I should’ve known when he started stepping outside to take some calls when he started keeping his phone face-down on the nightstand. And especially when we stopped having s*x. I was neck-deep in exam prep for my final semester before senior year, so I thought he was just giving me space. Letting me focus. I convinced myself that was what love looked like; quiet support, and distance when needed. But weeks passed, and the intimacy, the tenderness… it vanished. Then, one weekend, I found a used condom in his bathroom. I remember standing there, staring at it like it was a foreign object and when I confronted him, he told me it belonged to a friend. Said his buddy had some girl over while he wasn’t around. That they were just using his place. But the brutal confirmation came when I was sitting next to him and a message popped up, lighting his phone screen. “This p***y wants more of your d**k… I wish she wasn’t at your place today. I would’ve come over for some good fucking.” That was when it hit me, this motherfucker was cheating on me. It was over. Completely, painfully, disgustingly over. He tried to explain. Again. But this time I didn’t let him. I couldn’t stand the sight of him. Back to Beth, she made a good point earlier. Staying on or anywhere near campus would be a slow, daily torture. Every corner, every hangout spot would remind me of Damon. And as much as I wanted to stand tall and pretend I was fine, I wasn’t. A change of scenery might not fix everything, but it would give me space to breathe. And the job? That sweet, casual “summer gig” her dad could swing me? I needed the money anyway for next year. My final year. Unlike Beth, I didn’t come from generational wealth. Her dad practically printed money and controlled half of Hollywood. She and I met on the first day of registration, and we were both lost, frustrated, and bitching about the same things. We’ve been inseparable ever since; best friends, roommates, and sisters in chaos. The next morning, sunlight leaked through the blinds as I padded down the hall, holding two cups of coffee. I pushed her bedroom door open and leaned against the frame. “Guess who’s coming to L.A. with you?” I said, grinning, holding up her cup. Beth practically launched herself out of bed, hair wild and eyes wide. “Are you serious?” she squealed, arms flying around me in a tight hug. “Careful,” I laughed, balancing the cup away from us. “It’s hot.” I placed it on her bedside table just in time. She bounced on her feet, shaking her shoulders like a kid on Christmas. “This summer,” she declared with a sparkle in her eyes, “is going to be a damn f*****g bomb.”