Ivy barely looked at me when she drove me to the airport the next morning. Her lips were pressed into a thin, disapproving line the entire ride.
“You don’t have to go,” she said finally, breaking the silence that had been suffocating us both. “You could just… not show up.”
I fiddled with the strap of my carry-on, my stomach in knots. “And then what? Pretend none of this ever happened?”
“Yes,” she said firmly. “You’re allowed to say no, Mal. Even to men like him.”
The problem was—I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
My life had already been swept into his orbit. Walking away now felt less like a choice and more like trying to escape gravity.
I turned to look at her, my best friend, the one who had carried me through every storm. Her eyes were blazing with frustration, but underneath was fear.
