“Gone?” Karmel asked, both of her eyebrows going high enough to get lost behind her cheaper-than-a-facelift bangs.

Chelle nodded, her gut twisting. “Gone.”

“Tell me everything before my car gets here.” She glanced down at her phone. “We have half an hour.”

Yeah, that was more time than it would take to tell her best friend that her fake marriage had gone to shit. Still, she led Karmel into the kitchen, where Chelle opened up the wine, filled each of their glasses with more than enough to match the need of the circumstances, and spilled her guts, managing—somehow—not to go all sniffly, even though she could feel her nose start to tingle and had to do a bunch of blinking to keep the tears away.

“So you said yes about the book deal, right?” Karmel asked after topping off her rosé.

Chelle shook her head.

Her friend gasped. “You said no?”

“I said I needed to think about it.” And then she’d all but run out of the coffee shop, not that she planned on admitting that out loud to anyone any time soon.

“Hardball. I like it.” Karmel clinked her wineglass against Chelle’s. “So, what do you really want?”

“I don’t know,” she said with a sigh, then drained the rest of her glass.

Karmel scooped up Mary Puppins and put her in her lap, then stroked her head with just the right amount of pressure to make the pug’s bulgy eyes close with delight. Of course, while Mary was basking under Karmel’s touch, her friend’s clear-eyed and determined focus was centered on Chelle. Her stomach did a flip-flop thing, and she knew that whatever was about to come next, she probably wasn’t going to like it.

“Is that why Nash isn’t here anymore?” Karmel asked.

“No.” Her chest became uncomfortably tight as she tried to find the words to make her friend understand that she hadn’t had any choice. She’d done what she’d had to do. “He totally crossed the line by giving Macon my book even though he knew it was for his eyes only.”

“And that was wrong.” Karmel pursed her lips together as though trying to figure out what to say next. “But is it unforgivable?”

Yes. No. She didn’t have a fucking clue.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said finally, the tip of her nose starting to tingle again. “This marriage was never meant to be real.”

“Uh-huh.” Karmel took a sip of wine. “It sure looked real from the outside. Did it feel real?”

“No.” Chelle’s hands shook as she poured herself another glass of rosé, giving her an excuse to keep her gaze focused on the task at hand, as opposed to her bestie who would most definitely know she was full of shit.

“Lie to me if you have to, but don’t lie to yourself.”