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I take a big gulp of wine, steeling my nerves. "Well, you know how I promised that my next blog post would totally drag Owen's name through the mud, after everything he put you through."
Jaime nods slowly, her expression unreadable.
"The thing is," I rush on quickly, "Owen kind of figured out I'm the one behind the blog and, well, he insisted I write a favorable post about him."
I chance a look up at Jaime. Her eyes have gone steely and her mouth is pressed in a thin line. Uh oh, she does not look happy.
"He threatened to reveal my identity if I didn't comply. I tried to get out of it, but he wouldn't budge," I say pleadingly.
"So you just… gave in?" asks Jaime, her voice tight.
I’ve failed as a friend. Jaime is the most sensitive person I’ve ever known. She’s still not over Owen. The other night, she ran to the bathroom and cried for twenty minutes when a Toronto Titans commercial came on. We only watch streaming shows after that.
I hang my head, feeling ashamed under her hurt gaze. "I'm so sorry, Jaime. I know I should have stood my ground, but I panicked."
Maggie glances between us worriedly. "Come on, Jaime, cut her some slack. It was a tough position to be in."
"I guess," mutters Jaime, though she still looks upset. An uncomfortable silence settles over the room.
"Let me make it up to you," I beg. "Just say the word and I'll write the most scathing, brutal takedown of Owen ever. I'll dig up every nasty rumor and embarrassing story about him that exists."
A slight smile tugs at Jaime's mouth. "As tempting as that sounds, getting back at Owen won't change anything. I appreciate you wanting to defend me, but it's not worth compromising yourself."
I feel a rush of relief at her words. Dear, sweet, forgiving Jaime.
Maggie claps her hands decisively. "This calls for more wine! Here's to friends who have each other's backs."
She tops up our glasses and raises hers in a toast. After a beat, Jaime lifts her glass too and clinks it against ours.
The knot in my chest loosens. Jaime's forgiveness means everything to me. I know now more than ever that I need to stand up to Owen. My blog and my principles are too important to cave again.
Maggie breaks the residual tension by turning up the TV volume. "Enough of this heavy stuff. We've got a rose ceremony to watch!"
I glance between Jaime and Maggie, uncertainty gnawing at me. I want to make this right, but I also don't want to make things worse.
"I know that look," Jaime says, pointing her pizza crust at me. "You're second guessing yourself. Don't. Owen is the one in the wrong here."
"Exactly!" Maggie chimes in. "He can't just go around bullying people into getting what he wants.
"You know what?" Jaime says, sitting up straighter. "I'm done moping over that jerk. He doesn't deserve one more tear from me."
"Thatta girl!" cheers Maggie, pumping her fist.
My eyes widen at her bold words. Sweet, gentle Jaime, who cried for two weeks straight after she found out he cheated on her. She still hasn’t gotten over it. Sometimes I catch her staring into space with a sad look in her eyes. When that happens, I have to snap my fingers in front of her face and tell her a funny joke. After six months, I’m running out of jokes.
A wicked grin spreads across Maggie's face. "Ladies, it sounds like this calls for some expert level pranking. And lucky for you gals, I just happen to be a pranking mastermind."
"Should I be worried right now?" I ask nervously. When it comes to mischief, Maggie has zero limits.
"Relax, it'll be harmless fun," Maggie assures me breezily. "Now, we could start small—like loosening the tops on his Gatorade bottles before a game so he ends up drenched."
Despite myself, I have to laugh. The mental image of smug Owen covered in sticky blue liquid is pretty great.
She holds out her hand, palm down. “Let Operation Take Down Owen commence.”
Jaime immediately places hers on top. They both look at me expectantly.
"Oh, um, alright then." I add my hand to the stack. "I'm in."
