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“Okay,” she said. “Sorry for asking.”
“You don’t need to know about my finances. We’re not best friends anymore.”
I’d put the bracelet she’d gotten in my pocket this morning and it was still there. It wasn’t that I cared, I just didn’t want to lose it. That was easy to do when you were going in and out of hotel rooms, and something so tiny could easily fall out of my bag.
“I know, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care, Em. I’m always going to care about you.”
“I didn’t ask you to!” Why was I yelling again? I couldn’t seem to control the volume of my voice around her.
“I know. Friendship isn’t a transactional relationship.”
“I know what friendship is,” I said. I knew I was being an ass, but I didn’t care. This trip was all too much. Spending this much time with her was too much after so many years. Going from zero contact to sleeping in the same room and riding in the truck with her for hours on end.
Natalie got off her bed and came to sit on the edge of mine.
“You’re allowed to be mad at me,” she said.
“I know,” I said. “I don’t need your permission to do anything.”
“You’re right, you don’t.”
Silence fell between us and I didn’t feel like breaking it.
Yes, I was still angry. Yes, I was still bitter.
“There has to be a way we can exist around each other,” she said.
“We’ve been doing okay so far.” For the most part.
“I just wish I could fix it,” she whispered. “I want so much to fix it.”
Yeah, I wanted that too, but sometimes things stayed broken.
She got up and went back to her bed. All the lightness we’d had when we got the cake was gone, the sugary goodness sitting like a hunk of cement in my stomach.
“I’m going to bed,” I said, turning on my side away from her.
“Goodnight, Em,” she said.
I didn’t answer her.
