The Billionaire's Ex-Wife

Best Friends

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Luke's POV. (Surprise!)

It hurt.

It hurt real bad.

Falling in love with your best friend was terrible. But I couldn't help it. I couldn't help noticing how her brown eyes would be lined in a soft hazel whenever she laughed. I couldn't help noticing that when she was nervous she would jiggle her right foot, and her palms would become clammy.

But love is hell.

Love wasn't all laughs and secret kisses. No it was a world of tears and hopeless waiting for the person to notice you. To notice that they loved you too. To have them in your arms, a wide grin both your faces.

Love wasn't real.

It  was all a feeble dream that you yearned to become true. But it wouldn't. No matter how much you begged. Pleaded. Cried. It wouldn't become real.

I tried. I tried to show her my feelings. I could see the cogs turning her head, trying to comprehend my actions but later them dismissing as a show of friendship. I have never hated a word more than that.

Friends.

I would constantly chant the word in my mind, every night. Friends. That was all we were, and nothing more. And I knew it was wrong. Wrong to imagine her as more but my heart was in her clueless hands. She had no idea that I loved her. It was frustrating. I tried everything. Even the old yawn-and-put-your-arm-over-her-shoulder trick. Yet she still remained oblivious to my desperate reaches towards her.

So I buried them. I buried my feelings deep within. I buried all the love for the girl with the perfect brown hair and mocha brown eyes. I ignored the accelerated beat of my heart whenever she came near. I ignored the pain I would hold in whenever she was hurt. I ignored my feelings.

I pretended that I was just her best friend. A guy she had stumbled across and had fortunately pulled her back to her feet. That was all I was.

A friend. Nothing more. Nothing less.

And I watched as she eyed other men, occasionally commenting on their looks. It was absolute torture to watch as she flirted. The constant stabbing of knives to my heart were becoming unbreable.

"Enjoy."

I threw the bartender an appreciate smile, clasping the large bottle of brandy in my hands. Bringing the rim of the bottle to my lips, I found myself doning the drink in seconds. Slamming it harshly against the table, I wiped my lips from the back of my hand, ordering another bottle.

This was my chance to get away from all the heartbreak I had suffered today. It irritated me that Alison still could not tell me what she was thinking even when I had ended up in hospital after beating her ex-husband up. I knew that I should give her time and allow her to open up herself but something inside me had enough.

Enough of getting rejected. Enough of being friend zoned. I wanted to be loved.

Was that too much to ask?

I wanted to find the girl of my dreams. The girl I would care for, for days on end. The girl I would hold in my arms as we slept. The girl I would shower with, with love and riches.

I wanted her now. I wasn't waiting any longer.

But then again, love wasn't even real. Not ever-lasting love. Love or more like lust would only last a few years before slowly drifting away. My own parents didn't love each other anymore, but yet bregudgingly stuck together. They claimed that it was too much of a fuss to sign all the documents nor did they want to break their parent's heart. I suspected that they did however have minuscule feelings for one another, but not love. They had lost that years before.