Helping a friend

A buzz from the nightstand pulls my attention away from the random show I was watching in bed. I pause the show and look at my phone. It’s Izzy. This is a tense moment, and I wonder if I will finally find out if she was mad at me or if I have just been paranoid.

A week ago, Isobel—my best friend—invited me over for dinner and drinks at her house with her and her husband, Owen. It was a great night and we got a little drunk. I had so much fun with them and I thought they were enjoying themselves too but I noticed towards the end of the night Izzy seemed like she was annoyed with me.

Owen and I have a lot in common so naturally we talked a lot. Owen is an Architect, and I work for a 3D modeling studio. We mostly create art assets for film, TV and advertisements but Owen and I got to talking about doing mockups of his designs, what kinds of programs and tools he works with and how they are similar or different from the ones I use. Either way, we had a lot to talk about, and Izzy is a personal trainer, so I guess she just isn’t really in the same sphere of our interests—at least the ones we spoke at length about.

I’ll be honest. Owen is drop dead gorgeous. He is tall… like tall-tall. He is so fit too. Probably because his wife is a personal trainer and he has this strong yet safe feel about him. The kind of guy you know wouldn’t feel threatened by any other man in the room. And his smile… Oh god, his smile. I saw those perfect white teeth quite a lot that night. I think that was part of the problem. While Owen wouldn't be intimidated by any man talking to his wife, I think Izzy was.

Izzy hasn’t spoken to me all week despite being my best friend. She also has nothing to worry about. While Owen may be the star of many of my late night fantasies, what Izzy doesn't know can’t hurt her and besides, I would never actually hit on him sober… ‘sober’ being the operative word. I’m already a fairly flirty girl with my guy friends—not that I am any less flirty towards my girl friends—but I know where the line is. However, mix **** in with the situation… We were just having so much fun that night and I might have had just a little bit too much wine. Owen would also never dream of cheating on Isobel. Not only is Owen just not that kind of guy—I think—but Izzy is most guys' dream girl. She is fit, pretty, hilariously funny and she is smart. She might not be like ‘Intelligentsia’ smart, but she got great grades in college and is travelled and cultured.

I can somewhat understand why she might have felt threatened. I am thin—I wouldn't call myself fit though, just skinny—and while I might not feel pretty every day, I get my fair share of compliments, glances… I can turn some heads on occasion. I am also 8 years younger than Izzy. It’s a long story; I used to be best friends with her younger sister who is my age but Izzy and I got on so well after I met her and we kind of just kept hanging out. Like I said, it's a long story. And I know that young single women can sometimes be threatening to older married women, not that Izzy—at 30—is old by any standards. But like I said, I could never betray Izzy like that… Even if Owen is like my perfect guy… it kinda sucks to be honest. Before I was even friends with Izzy, Owen was just my friend's older sister’s boyfriend that I had a crush on. But then they got married and we did become friends and Owen became… off limits.

I am so nervous to read the message, but when I do, I am even more confused than before.

“Melissa, I fucked up… I need your advice.”

What could she have done? Worried that Izzy was somehow in trouble but also—strangely—happy that she didn’t seem to hate me, I rang her immediately.

Izzy answers the phone quietly, sniffling as if she had been crying.

“What happened? Where are you? Are you okay? Do you need me to pick you up?” I hurriedly barraged her with questions like a good friend should.

“I’m fine… I just need to talk to you,” she says, breathing out deeply.

“I’m coming over now,” I say, getting to my feet and looking for my keys.

“No,” she chuckles but sounds upset. “Owen’s about to get home. Can we get coffee tomorrow at Elle’s?” she asks.

“Of course babe… Are you sure you are okay? I can come get you if… you had a fight or something,” I say, wondering what could have happened.

“It’s nothing like that… I’ll explain everything tomorrow.”

She said goodbye after assuring me that she wasn’t in some kind of danger and I messaged her throughout the night but her entire mood had changed after the phone call. She seemed happy and fine. I was beyond curious at this point and I just had to know what might have happened.

I checked her socials to see if she had mentioned anything. Nothing but some hot photos of her at the gym, like always. God how can she look so good? I think, lingering over her perfect sweaty breasts, tightly restrained by ther neon pink sports bra. I checked Owen’s socials too just to make sure he hadn’t mentioned anything. Nothing… Everything seemed normal. I would have to wait for Elle’s tomorrow. Elle’s cafe had been our favorite hangout for over a year.

I contemplated messaging Owen to ask him if everything was good but all that business about last weekend didn’t yet seem like it was resolved so I thought better of it. I did however like his new photo of him and Charlie—their dog. Maybe that was pushing it still, but we’re all friends. It's not like it's a photo of him shirtless at the beach… that photo, I didn’t like, but I liked very much, if you know what I mean.

Like usual, my night was uneventful. I have been single since college so I live alone. All by choice of course. My focus has been on my career and I’ve never liked the idea of roommates. I like to feel comfortable if I want to bring a guy home with me after a night out and roommates make that difficult. Not that I bring guys home often. In fact, it’s been quite a while and I can tell by how much of my time I spend thinking about certain off-limits men.

The next day, when 10:30 comes around I meet with Izzy. She hugs me tightly like we haven't seen each other in a year. It has been a week, which for us, is fairly long but still. We order coffee and say hi to Elle, the nice old lady who owns the shop before sitting down.

Izzy definitely isn’t panicked like she had been so everything seems at least okay but she definitely seems down about something.

“So…” I say as casually as possible.

Izzy just stares at me pensively. After a moment she says, “Did you do anything with Owen last week?”

I almost spit out my coffee. “What!?”

“Like even holding hands or I don’t know, talk… you know… about… anything?”

“No! Izzy… of course not,” I say, slightly offended but also wondering how she thinks I did something while we were all together the whole time.

Suddenly it makes sense and I blurt it out. “Did Owen cheat on you?” I ask in disbelief.

Izzy puts her hands over her face and breathes out with a whine. “No…” she moans in grief.

I stop, confused and not knowing what to say but she continues.

“I did… I… I slept with one of my clients.” she admits before bursting into a sob.

I almost doubletake. My first reaction should be to comfort my friend but this admission only confuses me… almost… angering me.

“What? You cheated on Owen… why?” I ask in astonishment.

“I don’t know. I don’t even like the guy, he’s a jackass.” she whines going red in the face with tears streaming down her cheeks.

I am silent for a moment, thinking. I am mostly in shock but I feel horrible for Owen. I have sympathy for Izzy but why… Why do that?

“Oh my god, Izzy… I really don’t know what to say. Are things not good between you two?” I ask.

“We’re fine… I don’t know why I did it. It was a mistake and I can barely look at him now…” she sobs.

“Oh Izzy,” I try comforting her, putting my hand on hers. “I’m guessing you haven’t told him.”

Izzy scoffs, red faced and wipes a tear from her eye. “How am I supposed to tell him… that!” she says trying to calm herself but starts crying again almost immediately.

I shift in my seat. “Hang on… why did you ask if I had done anything with him?” I ask, probably sounding more accusatory than I had meant to.

“Because I’m an idiot… because I was hoping he had made some kind of move.” she says through tears.

“Why would he make a move on me?” I ask, even more confused now.

She scoffs again. “Come on… I saw the way he was looking at you last Friday… he doesn’t even look at me like that these days. You two were laughing and getting along like teenagers about to fuck. It was the whole reason I was so annoyed at him… and when Mark was just being so nice to me this week… I…” she starts crying again.

I was so taken aback by what she had said that I lost my train of thought for a moment before it came crashing back to me.

“So you were hoping that he had what…? held my hand or called me cute or something and you could be what… excused for fucking some other guy?” I said, now with that bitterness intentionally showing.

“Melissa… please don’t be angry at me. I’m sorry. I’m an idiot.” she sobs.

Luckily we're sitting outside and no one else is out here so her distraught outbursts are mostly going unnoticed, except for a few nosey women that turn and pretend they weren't watching from inside the cafe.

I sigh. “Izzy, I love you, I’m just… trying to collect everything in my head… I can’t understand why you would hope that your best friend messed with your husband behind your back?”

“Because I’d rather he fucked you than some bitch at his work or his personal assistant.”

I sit there in stunned silence staring at her. I might also prefer that but I am most definitely not saying that to her.

“Isobel you are being ridiculous. one: neither me or Owen would ever do that to you. And two: that sounds horrible. I should be the last person you would want to do that. You're my best friend. Our friendship would be over.”

“Owen would fuck you without a second thought if he thought he could get away with it,” she says with a straight face, wiping away a tear. The sentence sends my mind reeling in a direction it shouldn't be going right now.

“And our friendship wouldn’t be over. Sure, I don’t want him too, I'm just saying if it had happened, it would mean that I was right all along and I wouldn’t be… the only one who cheated. I wouldn’t have to worry that he is going to screw every woman he works with or you know, just divorce me.”

“It would mean that you were right about what, Izzy?” I ask, exasperated and feeling conflicted about being a good friend but also being embarrassed hearing these things about Owen.

“That Owen has always wanted to screw you… ever since we met. You might not see it but if I ever want to get laid all I have to do is invite you around. He’s guaranteed to be in the mood once you’re gone. Such a coincidence. Such a coincidence that his porn history is a fucking police eye witness description of you… Black hair, short girl, skinny teen, small tits,” she says with a raised eyebrow looking up and down at me.

“Hey!” I say, suddenly feeling targeted.

“He’s not jerking off to tall blonde personal trainers, and porn has no shortage of that,” she adds.

This revelation seems more like a coincidence but the heat between my legs at this rather forward admission makes me feel disgustingly guilty.

“Izzy, I’m sure that's not true. You are like a thousand times hotter than me and... and, if it really bothers you, I don’t have to come around to your place, we can meet here or anywhere.”

Izzy sighs. “That doesn't solve anything. This Mark guy wants to go out again… I’m scared that if I don’t tell Owen, he’s going to.”

“You need to tell Owen,” I tell her.

“How? I can’. He’ll leave me,” she starts to tear up again.

“So… what? You are just going to hope that he cheats on you, so that somehow everything is fair… you both fucked up and what? could you actually forgive him for doing that?”

Izzy stares at me like I am talking nonsense.

“Melissa, I cheated on him. Not to mention Owen hates the guy I slept with. I would have to forgive him because I love him and don’t want him to leave me. And I hope that maybe then he could forgive me because he got to have a little fun.” she says, seeming to be serious about it.

“There is a big problem with that, you know… Owen wouldn’t cheat on you,” I say.

Izzy rolls her eyes at me. “No… he isn’t _going _to, but he would… with a lot less persuasion than you think,” she says to me as if I am naive.

“You can’t trick him into sleeping with someone,” I say obviously.

“I probably can't, no… you definitely could though…” she says with a straight face.

“What! You want me to convince your husband to sleep with someone else?”

“I’m not saying I want you to, I’m just saying you could… and not someone else… you,” she says looking deep in thought.

I sit there taking in what she has told me. I would be lying if I said the idea that she thinks Owen is attracted to me that much doesn't excite me way more than it should. But a ‘liar’ I will stay because there isn’t a world in which I could admit that I think about her husband in 'that way' an unhealthy amount.

“You are crazy, Izzy.”

“No, I’m ****. I love Owen… I know what I did, but it was a mistake and if I could take it back, I would.” she says with genuine emotion in her voice.

I just chuckle nervously.

“He wouldn’t,” I say, trying to make sure I’m not blushing.

“He would. Also, I’m just going to say it. You would as well…” she says, staring into my eyes.

It is intimidating as hell and I feel frozen, like I can't respond or even speak.

“I don’t care either. You are a good friend, Melissa. And while I appreciate that you are a loyal friend and would never go behind my back, you look at each other the same way. Sure, maybe your conscience wouldn’t let you make a move on him, but if he made a move on you, I’m just being honest… you’d probably let him. Maybe if you finally just fuck, you can both get it out of your system. You wouldn't be going behind my back either. It would be our little secret that I was okay with it. And anyway, it feels worse knowing you look at each other like that and just pretend you don’t.”

I don’t know what to say. I guess I don’t hide it as well as I think I do. Although, I never knew he thought about me too. Despite being called out so directly, a wave of excitement shoots through me at the thought of him desiring me. This whole situation is much more dangerous than Isobel might think though. I really like Owen. It's not a ‘what if’ I catch feelings, I already have them. I’ve had them for years. Has she even considered that if Owen thinks about me, that actually getting me would just complicate things further.

“I’m not asking for you to blow his mind either, I just want the situation to be, you know... equal.”

Why did she have to say, ‘blow his mind’? Now all I'm thinking about is sucking Owens dick. Ohh God… I am going to agree to this, I already know it.

“So…” I finally say after collecting my thoughts. “You want me to have sex with… your husband… and then what?”

“Nothing. Then I will tell him I cheated on him. He’ll be pissed off and hopefully admit to sleeping with you… I’ll pretend to be pissed off. We’ll have a big fight, I’m sure, but then… I don’t know… we work it out, I guess. We will have both stuffed up but... I think he loves me… I love him, so hopefully forgiving him for sleeping with my best friend will make it easier for him to forgive me.”

I am trying to listen but Owen plowing me in the back of his car is playing loudly in my head. I push it down, trying to be logical about that plan.

“Izzy… how are we supposed to stay friends after that? Like I am never going to be able to come over or be around you guys at all.”

“Why? You’ll have saved my marriage and he’ll be in no position to tell me I can’t forgive you also. I don’t know, trust is just going to be a little shaky for a while but, Melissa…” she says, taking my hands and looking into my eyes. “You are my best friend, I trust you, and I love Owen. I’m prepared to do anything and I’ll never make this mistake again.”

“Well… you have certainly thought this through huh…” I say nervously.