I dip the garlic-buttered goodness into the container of homemade ranch and practically moan when it hits my mouth. I might have to go on a walk or something tomorrow to counter my calorie intake tonight, but it’s so worth it.
Paige and I sit atop my bed in our jammies with the menu screen for The Notebook playing on repeat on the TV screen.
Paige takes a sip of wine before asking, “So, Sarah’s there?”
“I know,” I sigh dejectedly. “I hate it. I know I shouldn’t, but I do.”
“I get it.” Paige gives me a knowing nod.
“Right? I mean, yeah, they’re friends, family, whatever…but she’s a woman. There’s history there. I hate that his last night stateside is being spent with her. It should be with me. It just pisses me off.” I shake my head. “I’m not mad at Loïc. First, he didn’t know she was
