Page 427 of The Doctors Will See You Now

“Oh, fuck!” Harper shouted. “You mean, Remy’s sister, Winnie?”

“Yep.”

“Jesus,” Ivy muttered on a long exhale. “What are the fucking odds?”

“Probably so slim I should have bought a lottery ticket the day I met Nick Raines.”

“I’m so sorry, Char,” Ivy said, and Harper added, “Me too, Char. That’s a fucking bitch of a problem. I understand the braids under your arms now.”

I rolled my eyes at their jokes, but I was too sad to laugh. “Yeah, it really a hell of an issue.”

“Is there anything we can do?”

“Not right now,” I answered honestly. “I just need some time. But, I promise that if I do need anything, you will be the first ones I call. Love you guys. Thanks for being such awesome friends.”

“Love you too,” they responded, and shortly after that, we ended the call.

But before I could go back to my binge-watching, my phone pinged with another message.

Harper: Oh! One more thing! When do we get to see the new Brooklyn digs???

Ivy: Oh my gosh! I almost forgot about that! Invite us over soon, Char? Pretty, pretty please?

Well, unless they wanted to hang out with Doreen and Harry, it would most likely be a while until I could invite my friends over to my house. Hell, it’d be a while until I could invite myself over to my house. I still hadn’t found the strength to start the process of evicting them.

I knew I could tell Harper and Ivy the truth—I could tell them anything—but I couldn’t do it without going a few rounds of mocking. And I wasn’t in the mood.

Me: Soon. :) Once I’m all moved in.

Fingers crossed that milestone actually occurred.

Ivy: Don’t forget to send us pictures of the new place!

I wasn’t sure how that worked. Should I send them the barely there shots I’d downloaded off the auction site or just take some candid shots with Doreen and Harry milling about in the background?

Me: Will do. :)

After I sent my response, I chose to put my phone on silent. And then, I thought better of it and just turned the damn thing off. Surely, I could use a good twenty-four hours without any human contact or the temptation of sending messages to someone I just needed to let go.

Nick. God, I missed him.

I’d sent him all of two messages since he’d broken up with me. Variations of “how are you,” both very vague in nature, and a hard-left turn from our normal witty repartee. Not only were they painful to send, it was even worse when I got his equally vague responses.

But he’d made his decision, and even though it hurt like a motherfucker, I’d understood where he was coming from.

He’d worked too hard to make things right with his daughter, and now, with their relationship stronger than ever, I wouldn’t want him to risk anything related to her either.

Don’t go there, Char. Think about something else. Find a distraction.

I grabbed the remote off of the coffee table and turned up the volume, loud enough to drown out my thoughts, but not too loud that the other tenants in my building would start banging down my door for the disturbance.

It worked for all of fifteen minutes. And then, my mind started to race. Dissect. Relive. But most of all, wish things were different.

I just wanted to go back to that happy space where Nick and I had all the time in the world and nothing standing in our way.

Eventually, I gave up, switched off the television, and slipped on a pair of Converse to head downstairs and check my mailbox. Generally, I wasn’t a fan of mail. I hated that I had to check a box every day, only to receive a stack of bills, coupons, or credit card approvals. But today, I was in need of the monotony. Surely, there would be something inside there that would take my mind off things.

With one turn of my key, I came face-to-face with a single envelope. I broke the seal with my index finger and unfolded the sheet of paper that was inside.