“As long as you don’t tell your husband, consider the scandal managed.” He winked, finally pulling away to gather his coat. “Wait for me to eat, will you?”
I nodded, sipping my already lukewarm tea.
Even as I watched him leave and say goodbye, it was hard to settle into this new routine. A routine involving just myself took years to manage; it was much more complex with a new addition. Change isn’t so much scary, it’s laborious. Change takes effort. Effort is exhausting.
I didn’t have much energy, even if I summoned it from my core. But this type of morning, where you have someone to defrost with like spring soil, I wouldn’t mind getting used to.
Friends are, at the very least, for easing each other’s anxieties.
So why was it that every time Lorelei came to me, we both ended up more anxious than before?
“I should pinch you for hiding that tasty thing away!” Lorelei nearly hissed, leaning over her clutched teacup as we gathered around my living room’s small window table.
“He’s the one who hides,” I corrected, taking a long sip of black tea.
“I can see why. He’d be eaten alive by the tabloids if they knew that’s what he looked like!” She giggled. “It is a shame you don’t use your mother’s particular influences—you two are such a pair.”
“I don’t need any attention, as much as my mother likes to dabble in social affairs.”
“Which reminds me, will you host a dinner together? A party? Something I have an excuse to dress nicely for!”
“I’m starting to think you just want to flirt with my husband,” I teased. “No parties, I haven’t been feeling well lately. I must save my energy for the charity gala. Mother won’t let me pass on attending.”
“Is it almost time already? I swear the last one was merely a season ago.”
“Try an entire year. Though, as time goes on, they do feel closer and closer.”
“Are you excited?” Lorelei bit her lip.
I simply gave her a look that said,What do you think?
“If I were you, I’d enjoy getting put in the most expensive haute couture in New York for a night.” Lorelei pursed her lips, tapping her teacup impatiently.
“Well, then, I will give you a good reference, and perhaps my mother can officially adopt you.”
“If she were to do that, at least you wouldn’t be able to escape me.” She laughed, rubbing her thumb on the rim of her empty teacup.
If she wiped any more, I swore the glaze would wear.
“Petre?” she said softly.
“What is it?”
“Will you be spending less time with me now that you are married?” There was a sadness to her voice, masked as curiosity.
“Is this what has been bothering you?” I set my cup down. “You’ve been so quick to be angry with me.”
“I don’t mean it! I swear,” she said hastily, gathering herself again before she said anything further. “I can ... spend time elsewhere. It is all right. I need more hobbies anyway. I could join a club, or make more time for tearooms and such.”
“Ma poule.” I shook my head. “Even if we may not share a hobby anymore, or there is someone new in our lives, we won’t grow apart. You won’t leave me that easily,” I teased, but I was serious. I didn’t have many friends, so I never found it hard to distribute my attention.
She nodded, and her shoulders relaxed a bit at the reassurance as she gave me an embarrassed smile.
No matter what, she would always be my oldest friend. I felt like I owed it to her, a protective urge within to keep her safe from my mistakes, to make sure we both made it out of this life like thieves.
I’d been trying to read the same page for four hours.
The short iron hand of the clock jittered impatiently past the intricate “8” on the side of the face.
