“We’ve been together for a few months now,” I say, my voice muffled against Riley’s shoulder. “I thought I’d found The One, you know? That’s what hurts the most. Because I thought I’d found him, and now I can’t look him in the eyes. Every time he’s near me, all I see is how he ran away. I can’t get over it.”
I break away from the hug, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. The room falls into a contemplative silence.
“Who said you have to get over it?” Bailey asks. She’s returned to her spot on the couch and reaches for another piece of sushi, her movements more subdued now. She holds it with two fingers, having never mastered chopsticks despite our many attempts to teach her. “Maybe this is who he really is, and you’re better off knowing now.”
“Am I just supposed to throw away my dream guy because of one incident?” I ask. “You know how hard it is to find someone normal in this crazy dating world.”
“Yes,” Jill says. “You need to take time and think, not act rashly. Of course you’re upset right now, and that’s completely understandable. Give it a few days. A week. Two weeks even. See if your feelings change. You don’t have to decide now. You’re in trauma, sweetie. Be kind to yourself.”
I nod.
Jill’s face lights up as if struck by an idea. “Hey, I know what might cheer you up! Will you come to my coming out to society party?”
I almost choke on the sip of water I’ve just taken. “Coming out party? Jill, you’re twenty-five.”
“So?” She shrugs, looking unperturbed. “Age is just a number, darling.”
“Yeah, a number that says you’re seven years too late for a debutante ball,” Bailey quips, reaching for another piece of sushi.
“Yeah, those kinds of parties are for eighteen-year-olds, not grown women,” I point out, still bewildered by the idea.
“Potato, potahto.” Jill waves her hand dismissively. “What does it matter? I need a husband, and I don’t have one. So, I’m throwing a party. Will you come? I was thinking about next week, but maybe I’ll postpone if you’re not feeling well.”
“No, don’t postpone,” I reassure her. “I’ll come. I’m perfectly fine. It might be good to have something to look forward to.”
“What about me?” Bailey interjects, looking miffed. “Why aren’t you asking if I can make it? Am I chopped liver?”
“Because I already asked you, dummy,” Jill laughs. “Remember? You said you’d come if I promised there’d be an open bar.”
“Oh, right,” Bailey grins. “In that case, count me in. I’ll be the belle of the ball...or at least the most interesting train wreck.”
“You know no one’s going to buy the cow if you’re giving away the milk for free,” Riley teases, wiggling her eyebrows at Jill.
Jill narrows her eyes, staring at Riley. Then, with exaggerated dignity, she lets out a long, loud “Moo.”
As the conversation about Jill’s party dies down, Bailey sits up straight, her eyes widening.
“Oh! I almost forgot,” she exclaims, diving for her oversizedpurse. She rummages around for a moment, her tongue poking out in concentration. “Aha!”
With a triumphant grin, she pulls out a small, wrapped package. Cartoon kittens wearing party hats cover the wrapping paper.
“I bought this for myself,” Bailey says, a mischievous glint in her eye. “But I think you need it more right now, Cora.”
She thrusts the package into my hands. I eye it suspiciously, knowing all too well that an unprompted gift from Bailey usually comes with a catch.
“Go on, open it!” she urges, practically bouncing in her seat.
Jill leans in, curiosity written all over her face. “This should be interesting,” she murmurs.
I unwrap the gift, half-expecting a jack-in-the-box to pop out. As the last of the paper falls away, I’m left holding...
“A vibrator?” I squeak, my voice jumping an octave.
The sleek, purple device sits innocently in my palm, looking out of place among the empty sushi containers and wine glasses.
Bailey shrugs. “Nothing helps you forget your troubles like a good org?—”
“Bailey!” Jill shouts.
