“Wow.” Abby lets out a quiet breath, smiling around the rim of her glass. “Then let’s get your family back, babe.”
“Oh, yeah?” I blink at her but she’s all blurry. “Just like that?”
“Yeah. Just like that. I mean, we might have to sacrifice a goat and ask the stars for help, but yeah, basically.”
“Don’t touch the goats. They’re adorable.” I shake my head, a choked laugh escaping. “I don’t even know what I’d say to him. I ran. I didn’t trust him. I read a letter that wasn’t mine and let it break me. I don’t deserve to go back.”
She’s already heard the whole sordid tale multiple times, but I can’t get past the letter. How did I get it so wrong? How could I have been so stupid? So selfish?
So blind.
Abby leans forward, pointing her lime wedge at me. “Okay first, don’t ever say you don’t deserve love again or I will hex your ovaries.”
“Is that… a thing?”
“I’ll make it a thing.”
My brows furrow. “Hex them in what way? Like never have kids, because that’s awful, Abigail. Even for you.”
“I would never,” she snaps, pressing a hand to her chest. “I may not want a little spawn of my own, but I would never take that from someone.”
“Then what are you threatening?”
She waggles her brows. “Octuplets.”
I throw a pillow at her face with a cry of outrage. “My poor vagina!”
“Exactly. Don’t cross me, ginger tits.” She snags the pillow and hugs it to her chest with a sigh. “Look. Did you fuck up? Yeah. But he loves you. You’re not the only trauma-ridden mess in this relationship, Georgia. You both deserve forgiveness. Especially from yourselves.”
I suck in a breath, trying not to dissolve again. “I just… I miss them so much.”
Her eyes go soft. “I know, babe. I know.”
We sit in silence for a minute, the kind only best friends can share without it being awkward. The only sound is a storm raging outside and the faint clink of ice in our glasses.
Then Abby tips over sideways on the couch with a groan.
“You’re not the only one who fucked up,” she says, flopping dramatically onto her back.
I arch a brow, the room spinning just enough to make it feel like the couch is floating. “Care to elaborate?”
She winces. “Would’ve been here days ago, but I sort of…”
“Abigail.”
She takes a deep breath and lets it out in a rush.
“Met a hot guy in a bar, went to a hotel with him, had the best sex of my entire life—like, fall-in-love-during-it kind of sex—and then…”
I jolt upright, gripping the back of the couch when the room spins hard. “And then? Don’t leave me on a cliffhanger, witchling! I know where you’re sleeping tonight!”
“And then,” she drawls, sniffling discreetly, “I answered his phone the next morning thinking it was mine and do you know who was calling him?”
I stare.
She finishes on a whisper. “His fuckingwife.”
I gasp so hard I nearly choke on my shock. “What?! Oh my god. I swear to everything, Abby, give me his name and I will track him down. I will throw salt circles around his house and unleash your witchy ancestors on his balls.”
