Chapter Twenty-Two: The Best Friend

Marissa was at her favorite coffee shop, tucked into the corner booth by the window, the one with the cracked tile and the sunlight that always hit just right. It was Sunday now. Three days since the Olivia incident. Three days since she’d slept with Daniel.

Multiple times.

A fact that had not, in any universe, escaped the razor-sharp notice of Leah Carter, who now sat across from her, sipping an iced chai with the kind of practiced elegance that only made her side-eye sting more.

Leah was striking. She was tall, had been a former point guard for the Howard basketball team. She dark-skinned, much darker than Marissa, and has high cheekbones and a face that didn’t need makeup to look editorial. Her natural curls were piled atop her head, sunglasses perched like a crown, and she wore layered gold jewelry and a burnt orange wrap dress that flowed like fire when she moved.

She looked Marissa over with one eyebrow raised and the expression of someone who was both delighted and deeply unamused.

“So,” Leah said, slowly dragging the straw from her lips, “are you gonna tell me how exactly you went from ‘Olivia cheated on me with a man’s wife’ to ‘…and then I raw-dogged her husband in a hotel suite?’ Because I’ve got time.”

Marissa winced, taking a long sip of her own coffee. “You make it sound so tacky.”

Leah blinked. “Babe, it is tacky.”

Marissa opened her mouth to respond, then shut it again, shrugging instead. “Yeah. Maybe.”

Leah leaned back, crossing her long legs. “You didn’t even like men last month. Hell, last week. You used to say ‘penis’ like it was a slur.”

“I didn’t say it like a slur.”

“You did,” Leah said, deadpan. “You once called it ‘an unfortunate meat attachment.’”

Marissa groaned, rubbing her forehead. “I don’t know what happened, okay? It just—it felt… right. At the time.”

Leah tilted her head. “So was it good?”

Marissa stared at her.

Leah smirked. “Don’t look at me like that. If you’re gonna sin, I want the details.”

“It was… good,” Marissa said finally, dragging the word out like it betrayed her. “Like… biblical.”

Leah leaned forward. “Marissa.”

Marissa gestured vaguely with her coffee. “Like, multiple-times, scream-into-pillows, see-God-and-lose-track-of-your-name good.”

Leah smirked a moment, and being the unhinged gremlin that she was just said, “Details girl now,” crossing her leg to make a point.

“Ugh,” Marissa groaned, slumping against the booth cushion. “You’re not gonna let me out of here until I spill, are you?”

Leah didn’t blink. “Not even a little.”

Marissa took a long, dramatic sip of coffee, as if the caffeine might fortify her for this moment. “Fine,” she said, setting the mug down with a clink. “It started at Mel’s.”

Leah’s eyes widened slightly. “The greasy spoon diner with the cracked vinyl seats? Romantic.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be romantic,” Marissa said quickly. “It was supposed to be damage control. He found out about Sam and Olivia. He was spiraling.”

Leah nodded slowly. “So naturally, you decided to sit in a dimly lit booth and trauma-bond your way into his lap.”

Marissa shot her a look. “That’s not—okay, yes, but you’re making it sound less nuanced than it was.”

“I’m sure the nuance really came through somewhere between positions five and six,” Leah quipped. “Was it angry? Gentle? Sad? Freaky?”

“All of the above,” Marissa said before she could stop herself. Then, “Leah.”

“No, no, no—you don’t get to soft-focus this shit.” Leah leaned forward, eyes dancing. “You, the lesbian whose vibrator has three custom settings and a backup charger in her purse, let a man in. Inside. With a dick. I need to know what that was like.”

Marissa looked up toward the ceiling as if hoping for divine intervention. “It was weird, okay? At first. Like—unfamiliar. But not bad. He was…” Her voice dropped slightly. “He was gentle. Present.”

Leah’s smirk faltered, just a little. “Present?”

Marissa nodded. “Like, actually there. Listening. Checking in. Not just trying to prove something. It wasn’t performative. It felt…” She paused. “Like he wanted me to feel good. Like he knew what I needed.”

Leah blinked, her teasing expression softening for just a second.

Then, “And the dick?”

“Leah!”

“I’m just trying to get the full picture!”

Marissa laughed, half-exasperated, half-flustered. “Fine. It was… nice. Big, but not scary big. Warm. Real. And different from a toy in ways I didn’t expect. Like, there’s a rhythm to it. A weight. A… connectedness.”

Leah sipped her chai like she was at a wine tasting. “You fucked a man and now you’re waxing poetic about rhythm. Incredible.”

“I’m not converting,” Marissa said, holding up a hand. “I’m still a lesbian. Daniel’s just… the exception. The freak accident.”

Leah chuckled. “Babe. That man had you screaming into a throw pillow. That’s not an exception. That’s a seismic event.”

Marissa buried her face in her hands. “I hate you.”

“No you don’t,” Leah said, reaching across the table and patting her hand. “You just had the first dick of your life and you’re dealing with the emotional consequences. I’m proud of you.”

Silence settled between them again, thick as steam from their drinks. Marissa didn’t want to think too hard about what it meant, that she hadn’t minded Daniel completely rearranging her perspective on sexuality… and her insides.

Leah stirred her chai, watching her over the rim with a smirk that knew far too much.

“So…” she said, dragging the word out like a hook, “what’s next between you and Daniel?”

Marissa groaned, dropping her head back against the booth. “God, can we not?”

Leah laughed softly. “I’m just saying, you’re giving very ‘accidentally caught feelings for my wife’s best friend’s husband’ energy. That’s a lot of nouns in one sentence, by the way.”

Marissa rubbed her temples. “Yeah, and none of them make it sound less messy.”

She sat up, straightening her back like she could will away the complication. She took a long sip of coffee, searching for a topic change. Something safer. Something simpler.

“Olivia still hasn’t called me.”

Leah’s expression shifted. The smirk faded. Her face grew still, not blank, but careful.

“Well… yeah,” she said at last, voice low.

Marissa frowned. “What do you mean?”

Leah tilted her head. “I mean, are you actually surprised?”

“I mean… I don’t know.” Marissa glanced down at her cup. “We’re married. She should at least want to talk.”

Leah’s tone softened, but it didn’t lose its edge. “Riss. She’s not calling because that would require her to face what she did. Olivia’s not great at that.”

“She’s not a coward.”

“No,” Leah agreed. “She’s just someone who likes the idea of being brave more than actually doing it.”

Marissa flinched at that. Just a little.

Leah leaned in. “You gave her everything. Loyalty. Trust. A marriage. She blew it up and now she’s hiding. That’s not love, babe. That’s selfishness.”

Marissa didn’t say anything. She just stared out the window, letting the words land like slow-falling ash.

And Leah, not unkindly, added, “You deserve someone who shows up.”

Silence stretched again. But this time, it wasn’t heavy.

It was clarity.

Leah set her chai down with finality. “Okay, enough wallowing. It’s too nice out to be sulking in a coffee shop like some sad indie protagonist. We’re going out tonight.”

Marissa narrowed her eyes. “Out where?”

Leah shrugged, already sliding her sunglasses down like a woman on a mission. “Somewhere with music. Somewhere with drinks. And if we happen to stumble upon a hot piece of ass to help you get that hetero detour out of your system…” she flashed a wicked grin, “then so be it.”

“Leah,” Marissa hissed, glancing around. “Not so damn loud.”

But she was smiling. She couldn’t help it.

Leah grinned wider, satisfied. “Mm-hmm. I see that smile. You liked it.”

Marissa rolled her eyes and stood, grabbing her bag. “I swear, you’re one bad influence away from being legally classified as chaos.”

“And you’re one blackout away from doing it again,” Leah said, gathering her things.

Then, with a grin that could cut glass, she added under her breath, “By the way… any chance Daniel wants to break another Black woman’s back?”

“Leah!” Marissa barked, **** on her coffee mid-step.

“What?” Leah said innocently. “I’m just saying, he’s got strong arms. That man carried you to a bed and rearranged your life. I’m intrigued.”

Marissa shook her head, laughing. “You’re unwell.”

Leah winked. “And yet, I’m the best thing that ever happened to you.”

She wasn’t wrong.