By the time Abbie came out of her room, everything looked normal again. The coffee spill was gone, the rug was dry, and the condo smelled like toast and fabric softener. For a second, she almost wondered if she’d imagined the whole thing.
Then she saw Roxanne, calm, elegant, unbothered, standing by the counter in a cream blouse, stirring her coffee like it was just another Tuesday.
Abbie frowned. “So, we’re not going to talk about the shirtless man in our living room?”
Roxanne didn’t even look up. “Keith,” she said simply.
“Keith who?”
“Keith Billings.” She said it like it was supposed to mean something.
Abbie blinked. “That sounds made up.”
Roxanne smiled slightly. “We’re together.”
Abbie nearly dropped her fork. “Boyfriend? That guy? The one who looked like he just walked out of
