Harley and Gemma exchange a look, and Harley opens her mouth, I’m sure with the intention of saying something calm and measured.

“Why the fuck would you say that?” Gemma blurts out before Harley can even start her sentence.

I ignore the looks of horror on their faces, knowing they’re my friends and will try to placate me no matter how much they agree with the sentiment. “Come on, guys, you know me better than anyone, you know what an asshole I can be.”

“We do know you better than anyone, Sadie. You and I lived together for years and I’ve never come anywhere near hating you.” Harley crosses her arms over her chest, leaning back in her chair and studying me like she’s my therapist.

Whom I should probably make an appointment with. Since I started Bridge and Blooms and moved in with Jack, the feelings of inadequacy that always live in the back of my mind have been much more vocal.

“You’re my friends, so you have to say that.” I cross my own arms over my chest, giving her a pointed look.

“No, we don’t. And just for the record, I fully agree with the asshole part. In the most loving of ways, of course.” Gemma opens a new straw with the sole intention of shooting the wrapper at me. Which she does, the thin paper landing in my untouched glass of water.

“How did you get back here, Sadie? I thought you dealt with all of this dad stuff in college.” Harley was the one who originally encouraged me to visit the mental health clinic on campus, and I’ll forever be in her debt for that.

“Daddy issues never truly go away, do they?” It’s a bratty answer, but I’m in a bratty mood. This is the second time I’ve had this conversation lately, and that’s two times too many if you ask me, which no one has bothered to do.

“Ah, so now that you have the prospect of a new man, a good man, and a real relationship on the horizon, all the self-doubt is coming back?”

“I don’t need you to psychoanalyze me, Harley.”

“I think you kind of do, Sade. Because she’s totally right. Selfish people don’t offer to help their friends grade grammar quizzes.” Gemma reaches over and fishes the soggy paper out of my water glass.

“And selfish people don’t stay up late listening to their friends freak out about their new relationships.” Harley nudges my elbow with hers.

Damn them both for zeroing in on my trigger word without my even mentioning it. “Okay, so I’ve done two nice things recently. Big whoop.” Seriously, why can’t anyone just leave this alone? Why do I have to continue to have this discussion with people?