Chapter 189
Abby
It’s a short walk to Chloe’s apartment, but it seems to drag on forever as my mind whirls with possibilities.
What will I say to Chloe? Will she even want to speak to me? What if this truly is the end of our friendship?
When I finally reach her door, my hand hesitates in the air, hovering over the doorbell. This needs to be
done, I remind myself, and I press the button.
The door swings open, and I’m met with Chloe’s look of surprise. There’s a glass of wine in her slightly
shaking hand, and her eyes are wide.
“Abby? What are you doing here?” she asks, her voice as cold as ice.
“I know it’s late, but I needed to talk to you,” I respond. “Please. Are you busy?”
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Her eyes flicker. There’s a flash of hesitation there. “I’m not sure if I want to talk, Abby.”
“It’s important,” I insist. “It’s about the restaurant, the cook-off, everything. I need my friend.”
She opens her mouth, maybe to say something, maybe to invite me in, but then her eyes narrow. “Are you
still talking to Karl?”
I blink. “Yes, Karl’s been helping me out, but—”
“Then this conversation is done.”
The door starts to close, but I wedge my foot in the gap, a sudden burst of desperate courage. “Chloe,
please. Can’t you just hear me out?”
Chloe looks down at my foot, then back up at me. “You should leave, Abby.”
“No,” I say firmly. My voice shakes, but I lock eyes with her. “I won’t go. Not until we’ve talked this through.
We owe each other that much, don’t we?”
There’s a long pause, and for a moment, I think she’s going to slam the door on my foot. But then she
sighs, steps back, and pulls the door open wider. “Fine. Come in.”
As I step inside, the smell of Chloe’s apartment envelops me—vanilla-scented candles and the lingering
aroma of dinner. It’s familiar, comforting, and utterly gut-wrenching, given the circumstances.
“So?” Chloe says, putting her free hand on her hip and leaning against the wall. “Talk. Now.”
I take a deep breath, gathering my thoughts. “Look, Chloe, I understand why you’re upset with me. And I
can’t pretend I’ve made all the right choices. But shutting me out like this—it’s not fair.”
She snorts. “Not fair, Abby? You want to talk about fair? It’s not fair that you’ve put everyone at risk by
bringing a... a lunatic into the restaurant!”
“Karl?” I hiss, exasperated. “He’s not a lunatic, Chloe. And regardless, I need you. We’re friends.”
“Yeah, friends,” Chloe scoffs, taking a bitter sip of her wine. “You’re right, Abby. We are friends. And
sometimes, when your friend keeps making bad life decisions over and over, it’s time for some tough
love.”
I wince. “I know, I know I’ve made bad decisions. But I’m trying to make it right. That’s why I’m here.”