“That happened a week after I moved out?”

Sunny nodded. My espresso had gone cold, but I drank it anyway. This meant that when Bette had come to visit me at my mother’s, Kit had been out of rehab for five weeks already and Bette had known that her sister had already fallen off the wagon. The idea of her driving an hour and a half just to drop off my book seemed sort of ridiculous now. If I’d been nicer to her…

If she’d come all that way just to tell me about Kit then, how come she was so closed-off when it came to telling me things now?

Sunny was still talking, going on about Bette and Kit and how she thought Bette had abandonment issues, but I found it difficult to listen. All I could think about was Bette driving to see me, trusting me. It just seemed that if I could make her understand that it was okay to open up to me, maybe I could salvage our relationship. I don’t know. Maybe we could get back together.

“-is so obviously emotionally stunted in that respect,” Sunny was saying when I managed to tune back in and pay attention. “I mean, you try to talk to her about the future or *****, your emotions, and it’s like talking to a brick wall, am I right?”

I managed a feeble smile. “Right.”

“It’s her perfectionism,” she said decisively. “Her obsessive, controlling perfectionism. She absolutely refuses to fail. At anything. Which is all right in the bedroom-believe me, it’s more than all right in the bedroom-”

I tried not to throw up. Cute how Sunny still has that effect on me.

“But if you want a real relationship with her, it’s impossible,” she finished.

I frowned. But that’s what I did want. It couldn’t be that impossible, could it?

***

“Hi Alice!” Bette’s assistant was in a peppy mood. I kicked myself for still not learning her name yet.

“Hey, you!” I said, shifting the pizza box to my other hand. “How’s the boss?”

Her eyes became wide. “In a very good mood.”

“Ah, that’s good.” I breathed a sigh of relief.