Abby

It’s a short walk to Chloe’s apartment, but it seems to drag on forever as my mind whirls with possibilities.

What will I say to Chloe? Will she even want to speak to me? What if this truly is the end of our friendship?

When I finally reach her door, my hand hesitates in the air, hovering over the doorbell. This needs to be

done, I remind myself, and I press the button.

The door swings open, and I’m met with Chloe’s look of surprise. There’s a glass of wine in her slightly

shaking hand, and her eyes are wide.

“Abby? What are you doing here?” she asks, her voice as cold as ice.

“I know it’s late, but I needed to talk to you,” I respond. “Please. Are you busy?”

Enter title…

hesitation there. “I’m not sure if

about the restaurant, the cook-off,

to say something, maybe to invite

still talking to Karl?”

“Yes, Karl’s been helping me

this conversation is

wedge my foot

you just hear

back up at me. “You

voice shakes, but I lock eyes with her.

owe each other that much, don’t

long pause, and for a moment, I think she’s

steps back, and pulls the door open wider. “Fine. Come

inside, the smell of Chloe’s apartment envelops me—vanilla-scented candles

comforting, and utterly gut-wrenching,

on her

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