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“Cara, I…,” I begin
“Ad, I’m so…,” she starts.
We both stop as our sentences overlap.
She smiles at me—her warm, familiar, loving smile—and my heart relaxes.
“You go ahead, Addie,” she says, softly.
I walk the ten steps that separate us. Standing almost toe to toe with the woman who I have called my best friend since I knew what the words meant, I say, “Cara, I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken to you the way I did. You were only being honest and I reacted badly. Please, forgive me,” I implore. Her forgiveness not something I take for granted. My contrition is on a level I know words can’t fully express.
She looks at me thoughtfully. Searching my face, as if, she will find the answer to one of life great mysteries in it. She leans down to put her cup of coffee on the side table next to her chair and grabs my right hand with hers.
“Addie, I am the one who is sorry. I was so cavalier in the way I spoke to you about something I know is difficult for you to talk about. Something we’ve never really discussed. I know I hurt you. I hate that I did. Can you forgive me?”
By the time she is done, tears are rolling down my face. This woman is so gracious and kind. I am relieved beyond measure, and wordlessly, I pull her into my arms and hug her in response.
We stand there hugging and crying for a couple of minutes before Cara breaks the embrace.
“Um, no offense, Ad, but you fucking stink.” I burst of laughter escapes me. “You need a shower,” she adds.
We turn toward the elevators, arms linked. “Shut up, Care Bear, you’re not exactly smelling Olay fresh yourself this morning.”
“Hey, I was up at the ass crack of dawn to catch my BFF so I could grovel before she went to work,” she says with a jab of her elbow to my ribs.
“Ow!” I exclaim. But her statement sobers me again. “Cara, thank you for coming here. I was going to call you as soon as I got back. I just needed a run to clear my head.”
She pushes the up button for the elevator and the door opens immediately, as we step inside she says, “Can we talk while you get ready for work? I don’t have rehearsal until noon, I thought maybe I’d ride up to Canary Wharf with you and we could talk on the way there, too.”
I knew she wasn’t just here to apologize, and I know this conversation is way overdue. “Sure, of course.” I sigh as I press the number eight for my floor.
We ride up in comfortable silence. When we get to my place I head straight to my bathroom, while Cara plops down on my couch, flips on the TV, and opens the bag of whatever she brought with her.
When I get out of the shower, she is in my room, lounging on my bed, flipping through my kindle.
“Addie, the shit you read. It’s all murder and mayhem! You need some romance on this kindle.”
“Ugh, please, Care, those stories are why you’re so boy crazy. No thanks,” I retort.
She throws a pillow at my back as I rummage through my underwear drawer. “You have no idea what you’re missing. I am going to download my favorite read for you…the main character, Kai, she is just like you, doesn’t want to fall in love, wants to do it all on her own. And then she meets Rhyson, and he wears her down with his persistence and fucking alpha protectiveness.” Her fingers move quickly over my kindle screen, and I know there is no point in protesting. I just roll my eyes and throw on my underwear.
“There, all done. It’s called My Soul to Keep. There is a second book. You’ll be gagging for it as soon as you finish book one. You can thank me later.”
She closes my kindle and turns those big, brown, all knowing eyes on me. “So, Addie, about yesterday...,” she says.
“I am sorry about everything I said, Cara,” I interrupt.
She puts her hands up. “No, babe, that’s not what I mean. I mean, about what I said. I did mean some of it. I do think you’ve denied yourself some of the things I think will make you happy.”
She sits up fully.
“I don’t think for a second your life is a waste. You have accomplished so much, Addie. More than most people I know. I just want to make sure you also listen to your heart. Don’t let your mother’s experiences, your father’s fuck ups, be what guide your life choices. You are not them. You don’t have anything to prove. You deserve to be happy.”
As she speaks, her eyes fill with tears she doesn’t shed. The earnestness in her tone grips my heart. I listen to what she is saying and try to absorb it because I know she is right. I have been so afraid I would end up like my mother, that I would be known as nothing more than the child of one of the most notorious criminals of our time, I have let it be the driving force in my life.
“And about Simon,” she says, this time with some caution in her voice.
“You can stop right there, Care. Simon doesn’t want me. At least not really. I mean, he is attracted to me, but he keeps doing this hot and cold thing. I’m not going there again. I’ve been burned twice.” I step into my skirt and zip up the back. I turn to face her, hands on my hips.
