By choice.
“Emma!” She was on her feet in an instant, arms warm around me, her perfume light and floral. “That dress is stunning on you.”
“Thank you.” I slid into the booth across from her, the leather sighing beneath me. “You look amazing, too.”
We ordered quickly.
Her chopped salad. My seafood linguini.
By the time the server walked away, Candace was already rolling her eyes.
“Three brand shoots this morning. Four hundred photos for twelve usable shots. Sometimes I miss when it was just me and my phone.” She dropped her head into her hands. “I’m exhausted.”
“I’m sorry. That sounds miserable.” I tried for sympathy and landed just off-center.
“It is what it is. At least they’re paying me well.”
“How well?”
A sly grin tugged at her lips. “Well enough to send my parents on a cruise.”
“Nice!”
“They’re excited. Mom’s already recited the itinerary five times. She says I need a waterproof lanyard.”
A laugh slipped out. “I’ll add it to my nonexistent cruise prep.”
Conversation found its rhythm after that—the easy back-and-forth we’d always slipped into without trying.
But lately, it stayed shallow.
Then the dessert menus arrived.
“No thanks,” Candace said, folding her napkin. “Garrett’s taking me out tonight.”
My fork stilled.
Garrett.
Cruel. Lazy. Manipulative. The words skimmed the surface and missed the rot underneath.
He’d hollowed her out slowly—compliments that shrank her, apologies that came too late to matter.
Five years of excuses wrapped in diamonds.
And still she stayed.
“You made up?” I asked, reaching for my water glass, buying myself a second.
“He… he apologized,” she said, too quickly. “He’s under pressure with work. I shouldn’t have pushed.”
“Candace—”
“It’s fine.” She forced brightness into her voice. It stopped short of her eyes. “He’s been calm lately. I just want to keep things easy.”
“But that isn’t fair to you.”
Her fingers tightened around the napkin. “I know. I just… can’t do another fight.”
