Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 156146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 781(@200wpm)___ 625(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 781(@200wpm)___ 625(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
“Happily,” I gritted.
She gave me an approving nod then launched in.
“So, you write me seven, and I’ll note that I counted them, very long texts that had me scrolling for half an hour. Texts that included details of Sasha behaving like a little bitch…” She waved her hand in my face. “I know, she’s not my sister, I can’t say that, but in this instance, I’m going to, because what she did is not okay. Judge was there. He heard. Your adored stepdad was there. He heard. Sasha herself knows you agonize about that to this day, even if it wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know that married guy was such a magnificent asshole. Then you finally come to terms with your uncle’s death, face your feelings about your parents’ divorce, and pull your shit together about Judge, and you spent the night with him, and you’re asking me why I’m here?”
“I had wondered why you hadn’t responded to my texts,” I remarked.
She dropped her head back and stared at the ceiling.
My phone binged.
Why is this important? Judge asked.
I had a ready response to that.
(In other words, a lie.)
No reason.
“Chloe,” Mi called my name.
I focused on her and stated, “Judge and I made dinner together.”
“I feel with the way you said that, congratulations are in order, but I’ve no idea why,” she replied.
“We did it attached. He had his arm around me, and he didn’t let me go. We shambled around the kitchen like we’d been tied together by an enchanted rope. It was utterly ridiculous and the most romantic thing a man has ever done in my life.”
“Seriously?” Mi breathed.
There it was.
I was not in a Judge Daze.
I was correct.
That was romantic.
“I mean, how sweet is that, especially after all you’d just been through,” she went on.
I knew how sweet it felt.
And the definition of that level of sweetness had not been invented yet.
“He says he’s falling in love with me.”
She gaped.
“Yes,” I concurred with her response.
“He laid that out already?”
“I’m right now assessing his opinion about wisteria.”
She gaped again and whispered wonderingly, “Your wedding flowers?”
As you could see, she was totally my bestie. She knew everything, including the fact my wedding was already entirely planned.
Down to the wall of wisteria.
(Though, color options were not set in stone.)
I nodded and shared, “He thinks they’re ‘very pretty,’ which is likely just a man’s response to flowers, or him knowing why I’m asking and he’s trying to get a rise out of me.”
Mi leaned into the counter. “I’m so glad you got your head out of your ass about him.”
“I’m so glad I have a friend who would come into her place of business on her day off to talk about him, even if she says things to me like I had my head in my ass.”
Perfectly Mi, she didn’t back down. “Well, you did.”
“Shall we move on?” I suggested sweetly.
“Yes, let’s talk about what you’re going to do about Sasha. Because Matt’s damage isn’t new. This Sasha thing, so out of character.”
That was it precisely.
Completely out of character.
“She’s called and texted, I’ve asked her to give me some space. She’s promised to try.”
“Yeah, like right about now, she should endeavor to go to Mars.”
Hmm.
I looked down and twiddled with my phone.
“Hey,” Mi called.
I caught her eyes. “Bowie was standing right there, and Judge was walking up. She saw him.”
“I know,” Mi said softly. “You told me.”
“That’s mean girl, Mi. Sasha isn’t a mean girl.”
For a moment, Mi’s face was soft with sadness and understanding, then it got hard, and she said, “Oh no you don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Feel sorry for her when she lashed out at you like that. Feel sorry which means letting her off the hook and then giving her your time and patience and wisdom and anything else you have to give to help her pull herself together. Coco, seriously. All this stuff going on with your family didn’t happen when she was six so it’s understandable when she throws a tantrum. She’s a big girl. She needs to grow up and start acting it.”
I felt my lips thin because she was correct.
And this was a one-two punch, because I had a feeling Judge would be disappointed if I gave in this soon to my sister, who, I could tell by her texts and voicemails, really was suffering for what she’d done.
“You’re wavering,” Mi accused with narrowed eyes on my face.
“I’m going to forgive her, we both know that.”
She shook her head. “Somehow, this world is careening toward being a place where there are no consequences. You throw some comment out on social media to some person you don’t know and will never meet, shady or critical or downright cruel, and you just go on with your life. Not realizing there are real people out there who suffer because you couldn’t just scroll on by, you had to lay out the nasty. There are absolutely no consequences to millions of people every day spreading a layer of negativity, or even hyper-negativity over something a vast majority of us use. That festers and breeds and it’s filtering into real life. Where we think people in our spheres don’t have feelings. That the world revolves around us and our opinions. But it does not.”