Page 134 of True Blue

The doors shut before I can see his face clearly.

But I can feel him.

"Promise you'll text me when you get to Santorini!" Petra orders me sternly. "I should be back home by then!"

"I promise," I bend down to hug Petra tightly, breathing through the stinging in my nose. I'm seconds away from bursting into tears. God, I can't believe a woman I've known for days can have such an effect on me. Not just any woman—a friend.

One of the many I made in this wonderful city.

"I will track you down, Indie," Petra warns me.

"I have no doubt, Petra," I laugh wetly.

She pulls back, her hands gripping my forearms as she studies me with fierce, dark eyes. The train station is bustling around us as others say their goodbyes, too.

I smile down at my new friend, whose face softens, and she reaches up to cup my face. I lean down to her so she can press a kiss to each side of my face.

"Enjoy your vacation, my friend," Petra says. "You deserve it."

"I will," I promise, stepping back and swinging my bag over my shoulder.

I give Petra one last look before I step onto the train. She blows me kisses, and I beam, heart full, waving to her once more before walking on board.

Petra's headed home today, too, with her flight leaving tonight. All morning, through breakfast with the girls, she talked about how excited she was to get back to her husband. It made me feel good for her to have that, with no sting in my chest.

That felt like progress.

Before we parted ways into our respective cabs, the girls pulled me into a group hug that made me blubber like a baby right on the sidewalk. I felt accepted, enfolded into their group, and the optimism that these friendships might be permanent grew and grew.

Zuri has a conference in NYC this year and promised she'll come down to Cape May for a beach day. Genevieve is coming in for Fashion Week and demanded I meet her in the city for lunch. Lupita already offered her home whenever I want to see Portugal, which I will absolutely take her up on when I get some time off.

And sweet Petra, who helped make my ex-boyfriend jealous just because he hurt me, said she would take me to the train station to see me off.

I think that sometimes terrible things happen because you can build something new and better from the ruins.

New friendships.

New life.

A new you.

And maybe that's better than what you had before.

It doesn't take long to find my seat and settle in. It's a two-and-a-half-hour train ride to Paris, so I place my bag above me, sit by the window, slide my headphones over my ears, and put on music.

The train starts moving, and as London blurs by the window, I smile.

"Au revoir, London," I whisper under my breath.

Paris awaits.

26

INDIE

AUGUST

Strange things are happening in Paris.