Alice couldn’t help, but smirk at the goofy expression Dana was wearing, “Take a deep breath, Dana.”

The tennis player took in a large gulp of air and then released it, “Alice, I um…I’ll leave. I’m sorry if I bothered you. I’ll go now.” Dana turned towards the door.

Alice reached her hand out and placed it on the back of Dana’s shoulder, “Hey, nobody said you had to go anywhere.” The writer gently turned Dana around. “I would like it if you would stick around, so we could talk.”

Dana nodded her head, “I could do that.”

“Why don’t we grab a table outside?” Alice tilted her head towards the table of women. “I love our friends, but I would rather not have an audience.”

Dana glanced at her friends, and when her eyes fell on an unfamiliar face it only took her a moment to recognize the woman as Alice’s date from the restaurant. Dana quickly turned her gaze to Alice, who was making her way outside.

Once the two women were seated across from each other an awkward silence filled the air. Alice’s attention was glued to the plant behind Dana’s head, and Dana was having trouble lifting her gaze from her coffee cup.

The writer finally glanced from the plant to Dana, and for the first time she realized how tired the tennis player looked. Her usually tanned skin was pale, and dark circles appeared beneath her eyes.

Alice took a deep breath, while trying to gain the courage to start the conversation, “For the past three months I’ve had a million conversations with you in my head. A lot of them consisted of me yelling at you, telling you how much you hurt me, and then there were the ones where I let you know how much I missed my best friend.” Alice felt the urge to reach across the table and take Dana’s hand; instead she grabbed a napkin, and began tearing it into small pieces. “I’m not ready for us to be all buddy/buddy, but I’ve gotten to the point where I think being around you won’t feel like somebody has just punched a hole through my chest.”