Bess

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It was my day off. As if on cue, Mia had come in early that morning, even before I dragged my sad self out of bed and she offered to take care of the kids while I got some free time to myself. If she was worried about my puffy eyes and red nose, she did not show it, but I knew she was only trying to be understanding by not bombarding me with questions. That I was thankful for.

I was lucky enough to have missed Lucas this morning, I could not trust myself to not break down into tears at the sight of him after last night. Just the thought of how he had called me her name, and I was sobbing like a broken tap again. It hurt, and even more so because I hardly ever fucking cried and much less over an asshole like Lucas.

Yet you love him

The thought was even more infuriating.

With a lot of effort and reluctance, I got ready to drive to the other side of town. I needed a shoulder to flood with my tears, and as fond, as I had grown of Mia and Lilian, there was only one pair of shoulders I knew I could always lean on.

My best friend.

"We look like shit," Celine forced a laugh as she opened her front door after I rang the doorbell once. I felt like shit when I saw myself in the mirror this morning, and seeing her right now made me feel like I was looking into another mirror. Eyes red, puffy, and swollen, lips dry, and hair flying all over the place. She wiped her running nose with the long hem of the pajamas she had on and gave me a smile that did not reach her eyes.

"Good thing I have ice cream," I raised the bucket of ben and jerry's I had gotten on my way here.

"I missed you so much," she sobbed, wrapping her hands around me in a hug. Suddenly I no longer felt like burdening her with my own men problems seeing as her face was already red from crying over what I could presume to be men issues too.

I let my purse fall to the ground, holding her up and letting her soak my dress in her tears, "hey it's okay," I said rubbing her back and trying to hold back from crying too.

"No it's not," she muffled into my shoulder. Just like me, Celine never cried. Growing up, the only thing that managed to penetrate hard enough to make her shed a tear was seeing me in trouble, but the fact that she was here sobbing for minutes on my shoulder right at her front door was enough to let me know that whatever had happened had splintered her heart.

"Wanna tell me what happened?" I led us inside and kicked the door shut with my leg. We sat on the long couch in her living room, and I found myself trying all my best card to offer her consolation, a very sharp contrast to the reason I had come, to be consoled.

We were both really fucked.

"I'm sorry," she said minutes later, and wiped her eyes, slowly regaining her composure. "I just..." she trailed off as fresh tears built in her eyes.

"I think I should not have brought the ice cream along," I chuckled, wiping off my tears and hers, "they seem to only trigger these stupid tears."

"But we'll eat it either way," she laughed.

"Fuck yeah," I made my way to the kitchen and took out two spoons, with the bucket of ice cream.

"I said bring ice cream not come on a suicide mission," Celine said giving me an amused look, with her brows raised at the 4.5 liters of diabetes wielded between my abdomen and arm.

I plopped down on the couch next to her, "Good thing my heart is splintered enough to have two of this in me," I dropped it between us and broke the lid open.

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