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It’s beautiful artwork, but nothing about it would make me think of Kara.

“Your best friend is Autumn Owens,” she says again, but this time it's a statement. Her voice sounds hollow.

“That is correct.”

“Your best friend is dating Miles Cress.”

I squint, and shift my weight to one foot. I don’t like where this is going. I don’t like how defeated the words sound.

“Yeah, actually. How do you know that?”

When she buries her face in her hands, I think I suddenly know. I think the only scenario in which her reaction makes sense is…

“I never asked his name,” I whisper. “Your ex, I—“

“Nope. You didn’t.” When she looks up at me, her eyes are sad. “Miles is my ex-husband, and I’m fairly certain your best friend hates my guts.”

I stagger backwards like I’ve been wounded.

This can’t be real.

“You’re kidding,” I breathe.

But I know she’s not kidding.

She’s shaking her head aggressively, and if I didn’t know any better I would think she was about to start crying.

This can not be happening.

I run inside my apartment. My fight or flight mode has been activated, and I’m choosing flight. I have to go, I have to get far away from what I just learned.

My car keys are sitting on my kitchen counter. I snatch them up and storm outside again, aiming towards the parking lot without looking in her direction.

“Wait, sunshine—I—“

“Don’t call me that right now,” I say as I struggle to take in air.

I stumble going down the stairs, and catch myself on the railing before I can fall. I’m being stupid, and irresponsible, and need to get my head on straight, but it all feels so impossible. Everything does.

She places a hand on my arm, pleading with me.

“I didn’t know! Can’t you tell I’m just as shocked as you are?”

That might be true, sure. I wouldn’t know, because my mind is foggy, and everything feels wrong, and I trust nothing.

Nothing.

Autumn is myfamily.She’s so important to me.

And she spent a lot of time crying on my shoulder over what this woman did to her.

“Even if, I mean…” I’m on the move again, needing to get to my car. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve held a grudge towards you? I’ve hated you foryears. Youbulliedmy best friend. You tossed her out, and gave her no choice but to live in her car.” She nods, but I’m not done. “In the middle ofwinter!”

She nods along, admitting to it all. That’s good at least. I already know everything, lying wouldn’t help her case.

“I haven’t even fully forgivenMilesfor that yet, and he’s done everything in his power to redeem himself! You’ve done nothing. You’re not even a better person than you used to be,” I point out.

She winces like my words are a physical attack, and I feel bad the second they’re out. I can’t help that I don’t have a filter, but I can own what I say. I do own those words, as hurtful as they are.