He apologizes to her, too

We were all alone. After four days of getting the brush-off from this woman, I finally had her cornered. Finally had an opportunity to explain myself:

"Claire, please just hear me out."

"No need, Tami told me what happened. Honestly, I kind of expected more from you."

"I know, I know, I'm so sorry things got out of hand. But I had to stop it before we went any further. I didn't want anybody getting hurt."

She frowned at me and shook her head. "No, you just didn't want YOU to get hurt. Look, I respect that you're not the kind of person who fucks around behind his girlfriend's back, but I told you—I TOLD YOU—that Tami was in a **** place and you still took advantage of her."

"Whoa, whoa—I never took advantage of her! She was the one seducing me! I never did anything to lead her on!"

"You knew exactly what she wanted and you did nothing to discourage her. You let her keep coming onto you all night because it was stroking your ego to have some hot chick batting her eyelashes at you."

Claire walked right up to me, her icy blue eyes flashing with anger:

"And then, at the worst possible moment—when she was all excited and happy to have someone being affectionate with her for the first time since her breakup—you pushed her away. Do you have any idea how that feels?"

I looked down at my shoes. "I guess not," I sighed.

"And there are other people out there," she choked, fighting back tears. "People who would treat her so much better than you did. People who would love her and cherish her—but instead she set her sights on you."

And then it hit me, all of a sudden. Everything about Claire clicked into place. She wasn't just mad at me for hurting her friend—she was jealous of me. I looked into her eyes, realizing that Claire was hurting, too. Maybe worse than any of us.

"It's Tami, isn't it? That big, unrequited love you were telling me about the other night. It's your roommate."

"You don't know what you're talking about," she snapped.

But I did. There was a sudden, **** fear in her eyes now that I'd brought it up. Fear of being found out.

"Claire, I'm so sorry. I didn't realize. Does she know?"

She continued to glare at me, furious. But then, ever so slightly, her shoulders slumped, and all at once the steam went out of her. Claire's face fell and she just shook her head. She'd been holding back a tidal wave of a secret for god knows how long, and the pressure finally overwhelmed her.

The tears came back, more freely this time, and Claire slumped against one of the unused washing machines, trying desperately to **** her sobbing under control. I sat down beside her, and when I went to wrap a reassuring arm across her shoulders, she didn't move away.

Halting words spilled out of her between breaths of air: "She's the best thing to ever happen to me. She's the best thing in my whole life. We do everything together! If I told her it would just scare her off."

"How long have you two been friends?"

"Less than a year, but—but I've never felt like this about anyone before. It's so great, but it hurts SO MUCH."

I hugged her, firmly as I could, trapping her inside the warmth of my arms.

"Does she even know you're gay?"

Again Claire shook her head.