Page 38 of 10 Rings I Hate About You
Good thing I didn’t have appointments today.
ME: Yup. I can make that work.
I eased my phone into my back pocket and headed downstairs to the shop below.
A thirty-second commute was one of the few blessings life had tossed my way lately. Sacred Serenity sat beneath my apartment like an anchor.
Yesterday, I’d gone to the floral shop to pick up the lavender that had been potted for me. I still hadn’t found the right spot in the store since I needed to hide the side the goat had torn through. I wondered if I’d see it at the shelter today.
When I pushed open the door that separated the shop from the staircase heading to my apartment, calmness settled within me. The faint scent of the candles, incense, and herbs for sale greeted me like a warm, familiar hug.
Cheryl looked up from behind the counter, her smile immediate. “How are you doing this morning?”
I shrugged. “Eh.”
Her smile didn’t falter, but her eyes sharpened. My friend leaned a hip against the counter and crossed her arms. “What happened?”
“Why does anything need to happen for me to feel eh?” I asked, even though I knew she’d see right through me.
Her expression confirmed my suspicion.
I heaved a sigh, deep and dramatic. “Fine. Theo texted me. Marc wants to meet at the shelter today to start planning.”
“Ahh,” she said, drawing out that one word. “Marc.”
I sighed again. “Yes. Marc.”
“I know we’ve only been friends for a few months, and I don’t know the whole history between the two of you,” she gave me a pointed look that said,spillsoon, “but this animosity seems … intense.”
A flash of heat sparked in my belly, threatening to flare and surge up into my chest.
“It’s not too much,” I snapped. “You have no idea what he put me through when we were kids. He has no concept of knowing when to shut his mouth. You saw him at the town hall meeting. Like that was him on hisbestbehavior. I have a whole lifetime of him correcting me like I’m some kind of—of–,” I cut myself off, breath sharp. “Like I’m an inconvenience. Or too stupid to live.”
Cheryl’s hands lifted in surrender. “Hey, I’m on your side, remember?”
I sucked in a breath, held it, and slowly let it out. Inhale. Exhale. “I know,” I muttered. “I’m sorry. I’m frustrated with him. Not you.”
Cheryl moved around the counter and opened her arms.
I stepped into her embrace without hesitation.
She held me tight. Her hands rubbed slow circles up my spine, and my body sagged into it like it had been waiting all morning for someone to tell me I wasn’t doing everything wrong.
“I poked the bear too early,” she murmured in my ear. “Did you have coffee yet?”
I nodded, my throat tight. I wasn’t ready to let go.
The sadness about Aunt Jem still lingered at the edges of my thoughts, in the tension of my shoulders, in the tightness behind my eyes.
“Any chance you got a good night’s sleep in an actual bed?” she asked softly.
I heaved a sigh for the third time.
“I’ll take that as a no,” she said, her voice gentled even more. “I’m here for when you’re ready to go through her stuff. Whether it’s her bedroom or if you want to clear out space in the smaller room where she stored the rest of her things, just let me know.”
“I know.” The words came out quieter than I’d intended. “Thank you.”
I pulled back, already missing her comfort. Cheryl’s presence had become its own kind of medicine—different from what Aunt Jem offered, but still healing.
