Marked By My Best Friend's Dad

SOLVING DIFFERENCES

~Alice

For the umpteenth time, I called her name, but Iris just kept drinking from the glass she’d taken from the kitchen, eyes fixed on the window like I wasn’t even there.

“Iris, please look at me,” I said, the words scraping out of my throat, raw and aching.

She set the glass down with a soft clink, still not turning.

“Can you just let me be, Alice?” she said, voice flat, almost bored. “At least you wanted me to come home, and I’m home.”

She walked past me, shoulder brushing mine.

I couldn’t let her go.

My hand shot out and caught her arm, fingers closing around her wrist.

“Hear me out. Please. Let me explain.”

She stopped, but didn’t turn fully. Her profile was tough, jaw tight.

“Explain what?” she asked, voice low. “Explain why Sasha’s head was stuck between the legs you promised belonged to me? Or something else? Let me go Alice, I'm begging you.”

The words hit like punches.

I felt the tears spill over, hot down my cheeks.

“And if I don’t let you go,” I whispered, voice breaking, “what will you do? Hit me again?”

She finally looked at me then, really looked.

Her eyes were red, tired, guarded in a way I’d never seen before.

“I don’t want to hit you,” she said quietly. “I don’t want to be here at all right now. But I came back because… I don’t know. Because part of me still remembers who we were.”

She pulled her arm free, gently this time.

“But that girl? The one who trusted you completely? You killed her yesterday.”

She walked toward the stairs, steps slow.

I stood frozen in the hallway, tears dripping onto the marble floor.

“I’m sorry,” I called after her, voice cracking. “Iris, I’m so sorry.”

She paused at the top of the stairs, hand on the railing.

“I know you are,” she said without turning. “But sorry doesn’t fix this.”

Then she disappeared down the hall, the door closing softly behind her.

I sank to the floor right there, back against the wall, arms wrapped around my knees.

I’d lost her.

And I didn’t know if there was any way back.

I slept the whole day away, curled up in the guest room at the far end of the hall, the one nobody used.

The curtains were drawn, phone on silent, I shut the world out completely. Every time I woke up, the ache in my chest was still there, heavier than before, so I’d roll over and force myself back to sleep.

Anything to avoid the quiet house and the truth waiting downstairs.

By evening, hunger finally dragged me out. I showered, threw on an old hoodie and leggings, and padded to the kitchen on autopilot.

I made her favorite creamy garlic shrimp pasta with extra parmesan, the one she always begged for after a bad day. I timed it perfectly, hoping the smell would pull her out of wherever she’d hidden herself.

Right on cue, the front door opened.

Iris walked in, hair wet from the rain outside, cheeks flushed from the cold. She paused when she saw me standing by the stove, spoon in hand.

“Dinner’s ready,” I said, trying to keep my voice light, normal.

She nodded, barely meeting my eyes. “I’ll be back in a jiffy. I need a quick bath.”

She brushed past me toward the stairs, leaving wet footprints on the tile.

I watched her go, throat tight.

She hadn’t yelled. She hadn’t ignored me completely.

It was something. Small, fragile, but something and I appreciate it.

I plated the pasta, set two places at the island, even lit the stupid candle I’d found in the drawer.

Ten minutes later, she came down in fresh clothes, my old oversized sweatshirt and shorts, hair twisted up in a messy bun.

She looked exhausted, eyes still a little swollen, but she sat across from me without a word.

We ate in silence for a while.

The clink of forks. The soft scrape of plates.

Finally, I couldn’t take it.

“I made this because… it’s your favorite,” I said quietly. “I thought maybe…”

She paused, fork halfway to her mouth.

“Thank you,” she said, voice soft but distant. “It’s good.”

“You know, don’t be guilty. We both did something wrong,” Iris said, voice quiet but steady, like she was trying to smooth the edges of everything between us.

I looked up from my plate, heart thudding.

“Does that involve being at my father’s place last night?” I asked before I could stop myself.

Her fork slipped from her fingers and clattered against the plate.

She stared at me, anger flashing quick and hot.

“Is that necessary right now, Alice?” she said, voice rising just a little. “What are you worried about? That I f****d your dad?” She let out a short, incredulous laugh, shaking her head. “You know I don’t do men.”

The smile she gave me was almost pitiful, like she couldn’t believe I’d even thought of it.

I swallowed, shame burning my throat.

“I know you don’t,” I said quickly. “And I know you’d never f**k my dad… But who knows, maybe, maybe there was a girl there. Maybe Miss Eunice, or…”

She cut me off sharp.

“I’m not a cheater and a b***h like you, Alice. Okay?” The words landed hard, but her eyes softened almost immediately. “I didn’t f**k anyone.”

Relief rushed through me so fast I felt dizzy. I exhaled, long and shaky.

“So explain why my dad picked up your phone,” I said, quieter now, needing the last piece.

Iris sighed, pushed her chair back, and stood. She walked around the island until she was right in front of me, she was close enough that I could smell my hair cream still clinging to her hair.

“Here we go again,” she muttered.

Then she took my hands in hers, gentle but firm.

“I was drunk, Alice. I was really drunk. I was staggering down the street like an i***t. Your father and his Beta saw me, they recognized me and picked me up. They took me home. That’s it.”

Her eyes held mine, steady and open. “Nothing happened. I swear. Even if you cheated on me, I would never retaliate by cheating back.”

I searched her face for any flicker of a lie.

There was none. Or maybe I just wanted so badly to believe her that I couldn’t see it.

I nodded slowly, tears threatening again.

She let go of one hand and brushed a thumb across my cheek.

“Now,” she said, voice softer but still edged, “it brings us back to what you were doing with Sasha. Let’s have it, girl.”

I swallowed hard.

My throat closed up.

The words stuck there, excuses, apologies, truths I didn’t even understand myself.

I opened my mouth.

Nothing came out.