I woke up to the sound of Emilie throwing up in the bathroom. I folded the blanket and put the pillow back on her bed and braced myself.
Her eyes were barely open when she walked back in.
“Morning,” I said cautiously.
She stopped short, holding her stomach. “Hi ... When did you come over? And how did you get in?”
“Stephen had a key.”
She looked confused. Her eye landed on my bandaged wrist.
“What’s on your wrist?”
“It’s a long story. But it’s just a bad sprain.”
“Aren’t you a leftie?”
“Yeah, not ideal.”
She sighed and held a pillow over her face.
“You should go see Jane,” she muffled.
“Who?”
“My acupuncturist.”
“I didn’t know you did acupuncture.”
“You didn’t know about Stephen either.”
“No, but I get why you didn’t tell me.”
“Do you?”
I still couldn’t see her face.
“I mean, I think I do ... You didn’t want anyone to know. I get that.”
“Connor knew.”
“How come Connor and not me?”
She sighed. “Look, Sam. I love you, but you haven’t really been top notch in the friend department. And like, I know that we met at a really tough time in your life. And I accepted that we were in law school, and you were getting divorced and all that ... but I sort of hoped that would change when we got to New York.”
“Are you saying I’m a bad friend?” My back hurt from sleeping on the floor all night.
“I guess it sometimes feels like we have a one-sided friendship. There have been so many times when I wanted to tell you what was going on in my life, but somehow we were always dealing withyourcrises, not mine.”
“Why haven’t you said anything until now?”
“Fuck, my head hurts.” She propped herself up on her elbow. “As much as I think of myself as a straight shooter, it’s hard to tell someone you care about that they’re self-absorbed.”
I flinched. “Ouch.”
“See? This isn’t a fun conversation. But I’m glad I’m still drunk for it.”
I stared down at the bandage and pulled at a loose thread.
