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by camsnewton

by camsnewton

+CALISTA OMIATA
THE PRESENT TIME

"ENGAGED"

"evan's asked me to marry him, gray."

he stared back at me blankly after hearing my statement which had come out of nowhere. i'd invited him round to my apartment to watch the newest episode of our favourite television show, but also because i intended on sharing my news; news i knew he'd be displeased to hear, to say the least.

he sighed, furrowing his eyebrows together as he pressed his fingers to his temples. then came the chuckle: this was his attempt at keeping his sangfroid as he dealt with the new information which was clearly creating shockwaves in his head.

"what do you want me to say about it, calista?" he grumbled, any signs of previous amusement were long gone, his expression was mean and unamused.

"i don't know..."

"well..." he threw his hands up in the air, "what did you say?" as he spoke his words i feared that this would be the moment our friendship collapses. i knew what i had to reply with: the truth. every single nerve inside my being was telling me to lie, front and pretend that i'm undecided.

"i said yes."

"great!" he exclaimed sarcastically. he stood up from the couch abruptly and yanked his phone charger out of the socket, sending signs he was gearing up to leave. he shoved his feet, quite literally, into his sneakers and slid his arms into his jacket. it was raining heavily outside so it was inevitable that he'd be drenched as soon as he stepped out of my apartment block.

"will you wait?" i pleaded whilst he was picking up his macbook.

"wait for what, huh?" he shouted which caught me off guard as his voice boomed off the walls. yes, i could see he was riled up but rarely does he raise his voice at me to this extent. "wait for you to get married? wait for you to have kids? fuck waiting, cali, i'm done."

"don't be like this," i rolled my eyes, "you're my best friend - are you actually going to walk away from me?"

"yes, i really am," he nodded with his back to me. he was at the front door, ready to turn the handle but he couldn't. he stood there frozen, his feet planted into the ground with his laptop and belongings in hand. without seeing his facial expression, i could hear a loud exhale of breath before he spun around and dumped his things on the sofa. "i'm going after i do this."

he grabbed the sides of my face and kissed me with a force, with passion and intent. i loosened up into the embrace as he started to become more comfortable in the kiss as well, even going as far as to court my tongue with his own. i moaned into the kiss before pushing him back, my hands firmly on his chest as his hazel orbs fixated on my lips - he was hungry for more, yet, i denied him.

"i'm engaged," i whispered softly. it wasn't something i wanted to reiterate, especially to him, but i couldn't kiss another man when in a relationship. and it certainly couldn't escalate further than it already had, which i worried it would.

"i'm in love with you," he mumbled, pecking me on the lips lovingly, "are you really going to marry him?"

"i don't know, i think so..."

"then there's no place for me, is there?" he shrugged. he let go of my face and picked up his things again.

"you're my friend. does that count for nothing?" i asked.

"well, i love you and that clearly counts for nothing."

and those were the last words to leave his lips before he opened the door, exited, and slammed it shut again. he'd left me alone in an apartment that housed so many old and happy memories of the two of us that we had created.

i felt my face tense, my eyes had gotten a bit blurry as they teared up slightly and i could feel my heart actually ache. the sensation was agonising and i knew that what caused my misery was the fact that i'd inflicted the same on grayson: my life-long best friend who'd been with me through a shit ton of ups and downs.

knowing i'd lost him was the worst pain i'd ever experienced but it was the necessary means i needed to move on. having somebody like grayson in my life would always contradict evan's purpose.

i had to make a choice, so one was made.

though i knew it was the wrong one, i had committed when i let my boyfriend of two years slide my six carat engagement ring onto my finger; the ring that sat solemnly in my jeans' pocket.