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I jumped off the counter and Klair ran. I chased her through the living room. I grabbed the closest throw pillow and launched it. I started laughing again and in the middle of all that ridiculousness, the ache in my chest eased.

Klair dropped onto the couch. “Come here.”

I sat beside her.

She rubbed my knee. “You’re not sentenced to loneliness because you did something fucked up.”

I looked at her.

“Some friendships ended because of your choices. That’s valid.”

I nodded.

“Some people judged you harder than they judged Caleb. That’s valid. But some people probably weren’t really your friends to begin with.”

“Definitely.”

“But none of that means you can’t make new friends.”

“At my big age?”

Klair stared at me.

“It feels weird.”

“So?”

“I don’t know how grown women make friends.”

“Same way kids do.”

“What, ask somebody if they want to play?”

“Basically.”

I laughed.

“See a bitch you like and say, ‘You seem cool. Want brunch?’”

“That sounds like I’m trying to fuck her.”

“Then don’t lick your lips when you ask.”

I shoved her.

“I’m serious. You keep acting like your life ended when that scandal happened.”

She picked at her nail. “It changed. It didn’t end.”

I sat quietly.

“You can make friends. You can date. You can fuck.”

“Clearly.”

She grinned. “And you can love somebody again. That includes Nash.”

I sighed.