“You’re being ridiculous,” I protest, making my way to the bedroom to get dressed. Even though I had wondered the same thing as his strong fingers were working their way into my scalp while I lie naked under the bubbles in the bathtub. “I left him high and dry, remember? Ghosted isn’t even a strong enough word for what I did to that man. He’d be even dumber than you think I am to come back to me.”

Damn, I hurt my own feelings with that one. I’m glad I’m not looking in the mirror anymore, because I’m sure it’d only reflect my pained expression, which would somehow make it worse.

“Oh, honey.” Trina’s voice is soft. “Do you want him to come back to you?”

“It wouldn’t be a smart move,” I say, but even I can hear how uncommitted I am to the words.

“That’s not exactly an answer,” she counters.

It may not have been a direct answer, but that’s an answer in itself. Do I want him back? Of course I fucking do. I probably would have spent the rest of my life with him if things had turned out differently. “I think you know that it is, actually.”

“This is going to sound crazy, but maybe this is a sign. Maybe it’s time for you to start dating again. Get yourself out there.”

“You’re right.” I pause as I pull my white T-shirt over my head and knot it at my hip. “That does sound crazy.”

“Bitch, I thought you were going to agree with me to go on a date,” Trina yells.

I wince. “Please stop shouting.”

“I will stop shouting when you start listening to my advice.”

My gaze bounces to the clock on my wall as I pull on a blue skirt with little white flowers. “Oh shit. I need to go. Listen, I will be fine. I’ll call you when the meeting is over and fill you in on everything. Don’t worry about me.”

“I always worry about you,” she grumbles.

“That’s why I pay you the big bucks,” I retort. “Love you, bye!” I quickly press the red button and grab my purse and keys on my way out the door.

By the time I park my car in the lot outside the Anastasios Press building, I’ve worked myself up into an anxious mess. Even my deep-breathing exercises aren’t helping my heart calm down. Maybe I should have had Trina come with me.

I’m a writer, dammit. I’m supposed to be holed up in my house with a cup of tea, making up worlds and characters in my own little head, not having unexpected meetings with publishers who have no clear agenda.