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“I know you do.” Laughing, she sat her bags down on the counter and turned back to Alana. “I brought enough drugs to wipe out whatever ails you.”
“Good. I just want to go to sleep for days.”
She hadn’t been sleeping well at all. Each night she’d toss and turn, remembering the sight of London walking into his apartment with those sluts.
It had plagued her like a nightmare that wouldn’t go away.
Why hadn’t he just broken up with her?
She would’ve respected honesty. If he was done with her, he could’ve been man enough to admit he didn’t want to be with her anymore. Instead, he’d acted as if he didn’t know what she was talking about.
It was childish, and she really didn’t expect that from him. Both of them were too old to play high school games.
“What are your symptoms?” Sofie asked, setting her purchases out on the counter.
“I’m stuffy, nauseated, and my body aches.”
“Hmm… Here’s some cold medicine,” she offered, holding out a box.
Alana took the box and read the back of it.
“I brought soup, and even hot chocolate. Go get back on the couch and I’ll heat the soup for you.”
“You’re the bestest friend a girl could ever have.”
Her heart was broken, and all she needed was her best friend to come over and take care of her. How did she get to be so lucky? She didn’t have her parents to lean on or any siblings. Sofie was the closest thing to family.
“Aw, Alana. I’m here.” Sofie wrapped her in a tight hug. “Now go. I got this.”
Making her way back to the couch, she inhaled sharply, trying to will the bile threatening to come up to go back down.
She tucked her feet underneath her and waited patiently for Sofie. Her friend wasn’t much of a cook, so it was no surprise when she heard the microwave turn on.
Minutes later, she came into the living room, carrying her lap tray with a steaming bowl of soup and crackers.
“You are a godsend.”
Taking the tray from Sofie, she picked up her spoon and dipped it into the soup. After blowing on it, she sipped the broth and sighed.
It was oh so good.
Sofie darted back into the kitchen before retiring with a healthy sized glass of wine.
“Now tell me what happened?” Sofie demanded, taking a seat on the edge of the couch. “Don’t leave out any details.”
She really didn’t want to talk about it, but she knew she could trust her friend. Taking small spoonfuls of her soup, she shared the story of her and London’s demise.
“And I thought he was going to be different, that he really liked me.”
Alana stared down at her empty bowl. She hadn’t thought she would eat it all at first, but it seemed her body needed it.
Sofie stood, having finished her third glass of wine.
Alana eyed her warily. When Sofie was tipsy, there was no telling what she’d say or do.
“The bastard,” Sofie swore, resting her hands on her waist. “I say we march over to his apartment and confront him.”
Alana’s eyes grew wide. “What?”
