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“Holy shit,” she breathes out. “Who brought you home? Was it the owner hottie?”
I flush hard from head to toe, and it takes me a minute to speak without my voice wobbling. “The lodge manager and her brother drove me down.”
“Eden, oh my god,” she moans. “I can’t believe you were just stuck up there. Do you have any idea what could have happened?”
Yep. Both the best and worst thing that has ever happened to me. I want to tell her. I’m burning to tell her, but I can’t make myself say it aloud just yet. “Why don’t I come by tomorrow after work.”
“Really?” She sounds like a little kid on Christmas, and it makes me remember exactly why she’s been my best friend for so long. She really does love me—not for who I could be or for how I make her look like the “hot friend.” She just cares about me.
“Yes, really. I’ll bring shawarma.”
“I’m divorcing Sage and marrying you,” she declares.
I hear a very muffled “Hey!” in the background.
Flor huffs. “Sorry, babe, but you didn’t bring me shawarma today. Anyway, yes. Come over the second you’re off work.”
We say a quick goodbye, then I burrow farther into my blanket, leave my phone on the table, and try not to think about getting on with life after knowing what’s out there beyond the city streets.
