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She actually fixed it so that it was hip and current. It’s a style that you see on television. I’m sure on other people it would look fine, but I hated everything about it. I hated how it looked. I hated how it felt. Most of all, I hated what it stood for.

Me being weak.

Me being trapped.

Me being stupid.

I cried horrifically loud and scared the hairdresser to death. She felt so sorry for me that she dyed it into an ombre type of color that somehow moved from purple to pink. I’d never had colored hair before and even I could see that the change made the cut look better and somehow still matched my complexion.

Still, I know that I’m not the kind of girl with the swagger to carry off the cut. I know that the woman in the mirror looks like exactly what she is… a woman broken.

“Do you like it?” I ask overly bright.

“Oh my God, if you hadn’t been sitting at our usual table, I wouldn’t have known it was you,” Katie says as she sits down. I avoid her eyes. It’s been a week since Mitch cut my hair and I’m still not used to the new look—a look I didn’t want or willingly choose. I put off seeing Katie for a week. I was hoping I’d be able to at least pretend to be happy about my new look. If she doesn’t stop, that’s going to be impossible.

“I was in the mood for a big change,” I murmur, my hand still on the side of my neck defensively.

“It’s certainly a big change,” she murmurs.

“You don’t like it,” I respond, and I ignore the feeling of tears stinging the back of my eyes. I don’t even know why I’m crying. It’s not like I’m upset she doesn’t like it considering I hate it myself.

“Hey, stop,” Katie says, getting up to come over to my side of the booth. She slides in beside me and puts her arms around me.

I think that’s what completely undoes me. It’s been so long since someone held me with care, since someone wanted to give me comfort, that I just cry. Katie holds me through it all. She doesn’t do anything other than hold me and rub my back. I don’t know how long we’re like that, but I figure it’s a while because the front of her shirt is wet. She holds my face gently and gives me a smile that is pure Katie.

“I love you, Callie. I don’t give a flying fuck what your hair looks like. I’m worried about you.”

“Because they kept me in the hospital,” I whisper, still ashamed.

“No, because of what you said. Callie, do you not understand how much I love you? If something happened to you, I don’t know what I would do with myself. You’re my best friend. You’re Lennon’s godmother. You’ve been there for me through thick and thin. I’d walk through the fires of hell for you.”

“That’s exactly how I feel,” I whisper, never wanting her to know that’s exactly what I’m doing right now…

Walking through the fires of hell.

If I told Katie, she’d just feel guilty. I don’t want that. She’s not the one that made the decision to be with Mitch—to marry him.

No, that’s just my own stupidity.

“Dry those beautiful eyes. You are rocking that hair. If you like it, then I love it. It really does look good. It was just a bit of a shock. You should warn me next time. Better yet, you should have invited me along. I could use a bit of a makeover myself.”

“I’m sorry. I just… I needed some time alone,” I murmur, hating that I can’t be honest with her.

“I will admit, I was kind of hoping that you would want to come back to my house to live.”

“Then, I can confide that I miss living at your house.”

“You really aren’t going to kick Mitch to the curb, are you?”

I hold my stomach as fear and revulsion at the mere mention of his name combine. “I can’t,” I respond softly.

“There’s a difference between can’t and won’t, Callie.”

“Sometimes,” I allow.

“I’m never going to like him,” she adds.

“I get that,” I answer, sounding sad, because I am. If only I could have seen through Mitch in the beginning like Katie did.

“Okay, new plan,” she says, grinning as she moves back to her side of the table.

“What’s that?” I ask when she gets settled.

“We’ll just not talk about him. Ever. When we’re together, Mitchell Lane does not exist,” she says, making the announcement as if just saying it out loud could deem it so.

“I think that’s a marvelous idea,” I laugh.

“Good. Now, how about we eat? I’m suddenly starved.”

“Sounds good.”

We order our food. I find myself smiling as Katie rattles on and on about Jeff and his deer hunting. He apparently is driving her crazy with all the hunting gear and leaving it lying around the house. She’s also not keen that he wants to shoot Bambi.

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