Nope, not thinking of that.Not yet.
Tomorrow was soon enough.
Tonight was for tears and ice cream.Cursing, too.Maybe even yelling into her pillow.She didn’t want to scare her neighbors.
Then she’d bake some cookies.Hercookies.Herrecipes.Because that asshole was never getting access to them again.
Maybe she’d even come up with something new.A vengeance cookie?What ingredients could she use for those?
It could be a thing.She could open a Vengeance Cookie shop.Become a media sensation and put the jerk out of business.Hashtag Vengeance Cookie.Hashtag Boycott Anson Bakes.Hashtag I need a new job.
The bus arrived, and Mara sat at the back.She didn’t want to see anyone or be forced into polite conversations with strangers.
She wanted to be at home.
Although her apartment wasn’t really home, the tiny studio had a view of a dumpster and hot water that occasionally worked.It was where she lived, but it wasn’t home.
She swallowed hard.At least she had ice cream.And her playlists.
And ingredients.She was going to invent the best damn vengeance cookie recipe ever.
Then, she might be brave enough to face the future.
