Chapter 2: The Woman He Couldn't Stop Looking At
Tasha didn't sleep much that night.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Nia standing beside the coffee table, holding that invitation as if it were something dirty.
I'm not responsible for where your man chooses to look.
The words irritated Tasha because they sounded reasonable.
And reasonable words were difficult to fight.
By eight the next morning, she had convinced herself that Nia was manipulating her. Nia knew how to stay calm when other people got upset. She knew how to make a sharp comment sound like innocent advice. She could walk away from an argument looking dignified while leaving the other person feeling foolish.
That was how Tasha explained it to herself.
She stood in her kitchen wearing an oversized T-shirt, staring at the birthday cake box she had picked up the previous evening. The cake was white with gold lettering and a small fondant crown.
Twenty-six.
She had imagined this birthday for weeks.
A rooftop dinner with Marcus. Pictures with her girlfriends. A crowded apartment afterward, music playing, drinks on the counter, everyone telling her she looked beautiful.
She wanted one evening when she didn't have to wonder whether she was enough.
Instead, she had spent the previous afternoon arguing with her best friend.
Her phone buzzed.
Marcus was calling.
Tasha answered before the second ring.
“Hey, babe.””
“What's up with you?”” Marcus asked.
“Good morning to you too.””
“I'm serious. You texted me some weird stuff last night and then stopped answering.””
“I was tired.””
“Okay, but what's going on?””
Tasha leaned against the kitchen counter.
“Can I ask you something without you getting mad?””
Marcus laughed softly.
“Depends on the question.””
“Have you ever told Nia she looked good?””
There was a pause.
Not a long one.
Just long enough for Tasha to notice.
“Why are you asking me that?”” Marcus said.
Tasha's grip tightened around her phone.
“Because I asked you a question.””
“And I asked you why you're asking.””
“See? That's what I mean.””
“What do you mean?””
“You get defensive every time I bring her up.””
Marcus sighed.
“Here we go.””
“Here we go what?””
“Tasha, I barely know Nia.””
“That's not what I asked.””
“I might've said she looked nice at the cookout. People compliment people. That doesn't mean anything.””
Tasha's chest tightened.
“When was this?””
“Months ago.””
“What exactly did you say?””
Marcus went quiet.
Tasha stared at the kitchen wall.
“Marcus?””
“I said she looked nice. That's it.””
“And you didn't think to tell me?””
“Tell you what? That I said your friend looked nice?””
She heard the irritation in his voice, and it only made her more suspicious.
“You could've just answered me.””
“I did answer you.””
“Then why do you sound guilty?””
“Because you're interrogating me before I've even had breakfast.””
Tasha closed her eyes.
She hated that he could make her feel unreasonable with a single sentence.
“Forget it,” she muttered.
“No, don't do that. If you've got a problem, say what the problem is.””
“The problem is that you look at Nia differently.””
“According to who?””
“According to me!””
“Okay. And what do you want me to do about that?””
The question landed like a slap.
Tasha pulled the phone away from her ear, stared at it, then brought it back.
“Wow. So you don't care how I feel?””
“I care. But I can't keep proving something that isn't happening.””
“Whatever, Marcus.””
“Tasha—”
She ended the call.
For several seconds, she stood completely still.
Then she opened Nia's message.
The screenshot showed a conversation with a contact saved as Marcus.
At the top was a message timestamped 11:47 p.m.
*Marcus: You looked really good yesterday. I wanted to tell you that, but Tasha was right there.*
Tasha's mouth went dry.
She read it again.
Then again.
A second message appeared beneath it.
*Marcus: I hope you don't think I'm being disrespectful. I've noticed you for a while.*
Tasha sat down so quickly that the chair scraped against the floor.
For a moment, she couldn't hear anything except the low hum of the refrigerator.
There it was.
The thing she had been afraid of.
Her boyfriend had noticed Nia. He had sent her a private message. He had admitted that he had wanted to compliment her when Tasha wasn't around.
Tasha's eyes burned.
She scrolled down, expecting the worst.
But Nia's reply was there too.
*Nia: You have a girlfriend. Please don't message me like this again.*
Below it, Marcus had written:
*Marcus: I understand. I won't cross that line.*
Tasha stared at those words.
She wanted to feel vindicated.
She wanted to march into Marcus's apartment and throw his phone against the wall. She wanted to call Nia and demand to know why she hadn't told her sooner.
But one detail bothered her.
The message was from last night.
The same night she had accused Nia of dressing for Marcus's attention.
Nia hadn't been flirting with him.
She had been receiving unwanted attention from him.
Tasha pressed her fingertips against her temples.
“Lord,” she whispered.
Her phone buzzed again.
Another message from Nia.
*Nia: I didn't show you yesterday because I didn't want to embarrass you in your own home. But you deserve to know what he's doing.*
Tasha swallowed.
She typed, Why didn't you tell me immediately?
Then she stopped.
She looked at the screenshot again.
Nia had replied firmly. She had mentioned Tasha by name. She had made it clear that Marcus was in a relationship.
What more could she have done?
Tasha deleted the question.
Instead, she called Nia.
It rang four times before going to voicemail.
She called again.
Nothing.
On the third attempt, Nia answered.
“What?””
The single word was not loud, but it carried a distance Tasha had never heard from her before.
“Girl, why didn't you tell me Marcus texted you?””
“Good morning to you too.””
“Tasha, I'm serious.””
“So am I.””
Tasha stood and began pacing between the kitchen island and the refrigerator.
“I just saw the messages.””
“Okay.””
“Okay? That's all you have to say?””
“What do you want me to say?””
“I want to know why you didn't tell me!””
Nia exhaled.
“I just explained that to you.””
“You could've called me.””
“I could have. And then what?””
“What do you mean, and then what?””
“Nine times out of ten, you would've asked me what I was wearing, what I said to him, whether I smiled at him, and why I didn't tell him to stop sooner.””
Tasha opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Because she could picture that conversation.
She could picture herself asking those exact questions.
“I wouldn't have done that,” she said finally.
“Tasha, you told me I couldn't wear a tight dress because your boyfriend looks at me.””
“That's different.””
“How?””
“Because I was upset.””
“So was I.””
The silence stretched between them.
Tasha sat on the edge of the kitchen island stool.
“Did anything else happen?”” she asked.
“No.””
“Did he ever say anything to you in person?””
“He complimented me at the cookout months ago. I told you about that.””
“You said he was being friendly.””
“Because that's what I thought at the time.””
“And now?””
“Now I know he was interested enough to send me a message when he thought you weren't looking.””
Tasha's stomach twisted.
“Did you ever like him?””
Nia was silent.
Then she spoke slowly.
“I'm going to answer you, but I need you to hear how unfair that question is.””
“Just answer it.””
“No. You need to understand that I have spent years showing you that our friendship matters to me. I have never tried to compete with you.
I have never tried to take anything from you. And somehow, I'm the one on trial because your boyfriend decided to send me a message.””
Tasha pressed her lips together.
“I'm not putting you on trial.””
“You literally accused me of being an attention seeker.””
“I was hurt.””
“And I was hurt too.””
Tasha looked toward the living room. The gold balloons were still stacked beside the television. The banner remained crooked on the wall.
“I don't know what to think,” she admitted.
“Then start with what you know,” Nia said.
“You know what he sent me. You know what I sent back. And you know what you said to me yesterday.””
Tasha rubbed her forehead.
“Are you still coming to my birthday party?””
The question escaped before she could stop it.
On the other end, Nia let out a quiet, disbelieving laugh.
“Is that really what you're worried about right now?””
“No. I just…”
“You just want me there so everything can look normal?””
“That's not fair.””
“Neither was yesterday.””
Tasha's eyes filled with tears, and she hated herself for it.
“I don't want to lose you, Nia.””
For the first time during the call, Nia's voice softened.
“Then stop treating me like I'm trying to take something from you.””
Tasha wiped beneath one eye.
“I'm sorry.””
The words came out quietly.
Nia didn't respond immediately.
“I hear you,” she said at last.
“But I'm not ready to pretend everything is fine.””
Tasha nodded even though Nia couldn't see her.
“Okay.””
“I'll talk to you later.””
“Nia?””
“Yeah?””
“Please don't tell anybody about the messages.””
A long silence followed.
Then Nia answered.
“I wasn't planning to. But if Marcus starts telling lies about me, I'm not protecting his reputation at the expense of mine.””
The call ended.
Tasha lowered her phone.
She had spent months worrying that Nia would take her boyfriend.
Now she was beginning to understand that the greater danger might be the man she had been trying so hard to keep.
At noon, Marcus arrived at her apartment carrying a bouquet of roses and a small jewelry box.
He kissed her cheek as he entered.
“Happy early birthday, baby.””
Tasha didn't return the smile.
She looked at the roses.
Then at the jewelry box.
Then at the man standing in front of her.
“Marcus,” she said, “I need you to tell me the truth.””
His smile faded.
“About what?””
She turned her phone toward him, displaying the screenshot.
For the first time since she had known him, Marcus looked genuinely frightened.
Not angry.
Not confused.
Frightened.
And before he could speak, Tasha noticed something else.
His eyes weren't on the messages.
May you like
They were fixed on the timestamp.
Because he knew there was another message she hadn't shown him yet.