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10. She Got an Apology

GWEN

"Why do you hate me?" Marnie wailed. "I thought we were friends!"

She staggered behind me into the kitchen as if I'd dragged her through a three-hour bootcamp instead of a ten-minute workout video.

I could only shake my head. "Mar, you can't be that unfit."

She collapsed in a heap on the kitchen stool. "You underestimate me, babe. My body's a work of art. Au natural. I wasn't built for all your exercise nonsense." She sniffed her armpit and made a face. "Yeah, I definitely wasn't built for exercise."

I wandered to the pantry and looked inside for a distraction. So much food, but nothing good for eating away my troubles.

I tapped my fingernails on the pantry door and asked over my shoulder, "You want anything?"

Marnie shook her head. "I'm burning up! There's no way I'll be able to keep anything down until my core temperature is back to chill-0ut mode."

"You did one ten-minute workout."

"Hey! Judgey fit person! I'd like to remind you that exercise was never part of the agreement when you asked me to come over for moral support."

I raided the leftover banana bread on the counter. Shoved a bit in my mouth. "What else were we supposed to do?" I gobbled up another bite. "We were going stir-crazy! We needed to do something."

"We?" Her mouth dropped in disbelief. "We were going stir crazy? I'm no legal nerd like you, but I object to that statement, Your Honor."

I dodged her objection by stuffing the rest of the banana bread in my mouth. The 'we' part was a bit of a stretch. Marnie was perfectly happy reading trashy magazines and gossiping about her neighbors. I was the one too restless to sit still.

The wait for Toby to bring Noah home was excruciating.

My eyes had been glued to my phone. Checking the time. Checking for messages. Toby sent a few cute photos of Noah on their adventures around the park. That didn't help.

My nerves stayed twisted tight. Not because I was worried about Noah—he was safe with his Daddy. No, I was biting my fingernails down to nothing because every minute that ticked by was another minute closer to Toby coming back.

My first face-to-face conversation with him in days had been... awkward.

He said hello. I shoved the baby bag at him. He just kind of nodded and took it. I passed Noah, and he waved goodbye. The end. We were like strangers instead of two people who'd practically grown up together.

And I was absolutely dreading round two.

I wandered aimlessly around the kitchen. Maybe I should tidy up? Wipe down the benches again? How much time would that waste?

Maybe Marnie was getting sick of me floundering, or maybe she knew me too well because she asked, "So, what time is Dickface bringing Noah back from the park?"

I shrugged. "Later."

"Later?"

"Yeah. Later." I wasn't admitting a thing—even to her. "I don't care what time."

Marnie was skeptical. "Schedules and you are like peanut butter and jelly. You can't have one without the other. You care about the time. You've been checking your bloody watch every two seconds since I got here!"

I grabbed the kitchen sponge and started scrubbing like a mad woman at the invisible spots on the sink. I doubled down, pretending Marnie's questions were no big deal. "I don't care what time Toby comes back."