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?”
Her eyes flicker. There’s a flash of hesitation there. “I’m not sure if I want to talk, Abby.”
“It’s important,” I insis
