“Hmm?”
“I’m sorry.”
I play dumb. “For what?”
“Because I’m pretty much just unloading all over you, and that’s not right. You’ve been nothing but nice to me, and I ruined it by being a freaking mess. I promise to let you enjoy the rest of your flight in peace. And again, sorry.”
I nod and go back to my meal, but out of the corner of my eye I can see that she’s all hunched over and I just know she feels bad. I’m not heartless, and maybe she just truly needs someone to talk to.
But she’s got a friend picking her up at the airport. Can’t she talk to them? I ask myself.
I don’t know the answer, but I know what I can and can’t live with, and I can’t live with knowing I turned away a person in need.
Inwardly, I sigh before finishing my meal. When I’m done, I lean back and turn to look at her.
“Liv?”
She looks at me without saying a word.
“You mentioned that you’re a writer,” I begin casually. “What do you write? Anything I might’ve read?”
Her eyes light up and that’s when I know I’ve made the right decision.
Just like I know I’m not watching any movie on this flight or playing any solitaire. This hot mess of a woman clearly needs a friend right now, so…I’m it.
And as she talks about cozy mysteries and romantic suspense books, I’m too intrigued to actually care about what I’m not doing.
3
OLIVIA
I have a bitch of a hangover this morning, and the room is far too bright.
“Rise and shine, sleepyhead! It’s time to get up!”
If I had the energy, I’d punch Vanessa. Unfortunately, the only thing I’m capable of is moaning and pulling the blankets over my head.
My friend laughs and tugs them back down. “I told you this was going to happen,” she chides. “I can’t believe you drank so much. That’s very unlike you.”
I go to speak, but my mouth is so dry that my tongue is practically stuck to the roof of my mouth. When I finally pry it loose and open one eye, I croak out, “I told you. Bad day. That stupid eulogy really did a number on me.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, it’s perfect. Mrs. Serrano is going to love it and so is everyone else.”
“I still wish I didn’t have to do it.”
“Because he was your ex and you’ll always have negative feelings for him?”
Groaning, I force myself to sit up. “No, Van. Because he’s dead. I hate the fact that Matt is dead. I thought that was obvious.”
“Oh. Right.” She sits down on the corner of the guest room bed with a sad smile. “Believe me, we’re all still in shock and yet…not. Does that make sense?”
I nod and try to prop up the pillows behind me.
“There’s a bottle of water and some ibuprofen on the nightstand for you. I had a feeling you weren’t going to be feeling great this morning.”
“Yeah. Sorry about that.”
“But you’ll be happy to know your luggage arrived. It was out on the front porch when I got up.”
