But You're Not Mine.

Noel didn't get pregnant. We both knew she wouldn't because I did, in fact, know better, but that didn't stop her from stressing. She spent half her check - and I helped her - purchasing pregnancy tests when her period came late. But it did come eventually.

It was weird seeing her frantic about the potential pregnancy. She cried a few times, saying that she wasn't fit to be a mother on any level. "I don't even eat enough to feed myself. How would I feed another human being?" she'd said. I had promised her that, whatever the case, I'd be there by her side.

I even fucked her again - sober. That's how we seemed to do things nowadays - once we realized he wasn't. I found myself regretting it more than the time we fucked in my car.

I kept telling myself that she deserved better than me. She deserved better than a best friend that wasn't a very good best friend because all he wanted to do was fuck her and tell her how beautiful she was. God, she was beautiful.

Especially at night when all I can see is the silhouette of her body as she stands in the way of the moonlight coming through the window.

I was starting to think that maybe I was the one who deserved better. Because even though I woke up to her face every morning, I still went to bed alone every night while she was at a different guy's house. My momma always told me that I was a good man and that I'd be someone's savior, but she also told me I couldn't save anyone who didn't want to be saved. Oh, how I wanted to save Noel. I really did. But I didn't fucking deserve this.

Currently, she was sitting on my sofa, talking on the phone with a guy named Samuel or Thomas. I couldn't remember, but all I knew was that she was fond of him. For the past three nights, she had snuck into my room, thinking I was asleep, whispering on the phone to him about how she couldn't wait to be with him.

It was sad for me, really, to finally realize that she fucked me out of pity. Unrequited love had taken a new meaning. Fuck, this wasn't even unrequited love anymore. It was torture. Being tied up in someone's basement and being starved for days was better than this.

All those years my dad taught me about treating a woman right. What about if you treat her right and you're still a doormat for her? He never taught me that. I thought that after her and Quinn were through - and they were, or else she'd never sleep with me - I'd have her all to myself. I'd never had an awakening ruder than that.

"Noel," I finally mustered. I stood up, sliding my phone in my pocket and shutting off the television. "I'm going to bed."

I wanted to sleep forever.

She wasn't even listening to me, but she pretended like she was. She even looked at me as I spoke, but I knew that it went through one ear and out the other.

Some kind of fucking best friend I was.