I swipe at the dirt on my dress, but the movements are too fast. It’s almost like I’m trying to scrub away more than just a few pieces of dried mud and lingering blades of grass. Each brush of my hand feels less like cleaning and more like a desperate attempt to erase the day.
“Can we just go to your place for now?”
Her head tilts, eyes searching mine. “Yeah, of course. Let’s go.”
I loop my arm through hers, letting her strength steady me as we start the walk to her parked sedan. Bree’s been my person since second grade when she came up to me with her wild blonde hair and gap-toothed grin. All it took was,“Hey, you wanna be friends?”for me to claim her as my best friend.
Twenty years later, she’s still the one who shows up, no matter how wrecked I am. She’s the sister I never had. The one who knows how to gather my pieces and hold them until I remember how to breathe again.
I don’t know who I’d be without her. I hope I never have to find out.
When we finally reach the car, I open the passenger door, slipping inside with quiet relief. My fingers move to pull down the sun visor. I catch my reflection in the mirror a second later. Bloodshot hazel eyes stare back at me, wide and weary. My dark brunette hair is still pinned in place, and my lashes are spidery and mascara streaked, but for the first time in hours, they’re not wet.
“You’re sure you want to go to my place, yeah?” she asks. “You can absolutely stay as long as you need to.”
“Mmhm, your place. And I appreciate that, but I won’t stay too long. I just need some time to get my old place set back up.”
I lean back against the headrest, watching the sun dip below the horizon, the light fading in a slow exhale. Time slips through my fingers, and no matter how hard I try to hold on, it just keeps moving. I can’t get a grasp on where it’s going or if I even want to follow it anymore.
She gives a gentle nod and pulls out of the parking lot. My mind drifts, and before I realize it, we’re in her garage. How did I zone out that hard?
She puts the car into park, the soft click of the gear shift breaking the silence. I look over, and she’s already watching me. Her eyes are gentle, threaded with worry, but she doesn’t speak. She just reaches across the console and wraps her fingers around mine.
We finally climb out of the car, and I follow her up the two wooden steps as she pushes open the door to the mudroom. The second my foot crosses the threshold, a tail-wagging tornado hurtles toward us.
“Hey there, Nugget.” I crouch down, greeting the enthusiastic German shepherd with a scratch behind the ears. He lets out a soft whine of approval as he presses closer to my hand.
“I think he missed you,” Bree muses.
Inside, I kick off my heels with a sigh of relief and drift into the kitchen. My fingertips graze the cool quartz countertops. It’s something steady in my storm of thoughts.
Bree tosses her oversized purse onto the bench by the door. “It’s just the two of us tonight. Dillon’s on duty.”
Dillon is her boyfriend of nearly a decade. He’s a patrol officer, and though she never says it, I know sheworries every time he walks out the door. I’ve seen the tight smile she wears whenever she talks about his job.
“You want something to eat?” she asks, cracking open the pantry door. “You know I’m always stocked up on the good stuff.”
Her pantry is a masterpiece in its own right, stuffed to the brim with every snack and ingredient imaginable. It’s organized chaos, but in that Bree kind of way—precise, thoughtful, and just a little bit over the top. Each shelf is meticulously sorted by category, each item placed just so, glass containers neatly labeled in her uniform handwriting. Baskets are arranged in perfect rows, each one holding a specific snack.
“I’m okay for now. I wouldn’t want to ruin your perfectly symmetrical setup.”
She shoots me a look, lips twitching. Then, she gently says, “Do you want to talk? Or do you want me to leave you alone? Oh! Maybe some music? I can totally sing for you, but you know I sound like a cat in a blender.”
A laugh escapes me, small and surprised, but real. It’s the first one in… I don’t know how long. “I love you, but I’ll pass on the song this time.”
“Suit yourself.” Her teasing smile falters just enough for the concern beneath to show. She’s holding back a dozen questions I’m not ready to answer.
Suddenly, my dress feels too tight, toomuch, and I can’t stand the way it clings to me. I loved how airy and free I felt when I slipped it on his morning, but now it’s all wrong. Too tight across my ribs, too heavy on my shoulders. The neckline scratches and I swear I can feel every seam pressing against me like it’s mocking the girl who thought she could keep it together.
“Hey, can I borrow something to wear? I need to get this offimmediately.”
And then throw it in the trash.
I don’t say that part out loud, but I really do need to get rid of it. I don’t want any lingering reminders of what I saw today.
“For sure,” she replies, leaning casually on the counter. “You know where my comfy clothes are. Matching sets are in the?—”
“Bottom drawer on the left. I know,” I interrupt with a smirk, heading toward the stairwell as she waves me off.
