Sage beamed at her and lumbered forward, all pregnancy belly and layers of warm clothing. She thrust a flyer toward Becca. “I just wanted to let you know that we’re having a Small Business Summit next year to promote local tradesmen. All of the shops in Painted Barrel and the neighboring towns can rent booths in the gym and we’re going to make a big festival of it. There’ll be food and drinks, and everyone can sell goods from their booths. I wanted to invite you personally since you’re on Main Street and one of this town’s mainstays. I know it’s not for a while, but I want to drum up enthusiasm ahead of time.”

The pregnant mayor beamed at her, and Becca did her best to take the flyer with a modicum of excitement. It was just as Sage said, a festival featuring small businesses. “I’m not sure if I can do a haircutting booth,” she admitted. At Sage’s crestfallen look, she hastily amended, “But I’m sure I’ll think of something! Maybe quickie manicures?”

“Wonderful! Just fill out the form on the back and turn it in at city hall and I’ll make sure we save you a booth, okay?” Sage glanced around the hair salon awkwardly, her hand on her belly. She looked uncomfortable, but Becca kept smiling, even though it felt frozen on her face. They’d been friends before the Wedding That Wasn’t, and now it was a little tricky finding the right footing once more.

They smiled at each other for a moment longer, and silence fell.

Please don’t say anything about Greg, Becca thought. Please don’t—

“I’m really sorry about how things turned out, Becca,” Sage said softly. She bit her lip, her hand running up and down the large bulge of baby belly under her sweater. “You know I had no idea that he was going to do that.”

Becca somehow found it in her to keep smiling. “Don’t apologize, Sage. It was all him, okay? No one should have to make excuses for Greg.” That big walking human turd Greg. “He’s a grown man.”

“Yeah, but I feel responsible—”

“You’re not.” She cut the other woman off, just wanting the conversation to end. Couldn’t Sage see that this was the last thing that Becca wanted to talk about? With anyone? Certainly not with the happy, glowing pregnant woman Greg thought he was in love with? “Please. Let’s just not bring it up ever again, okay?”

“Okay, so, uh, I’m going to go,” Sage said, thumbing a gesture at the door.

Becca held up the flyer. “I’ll make sure and get this filled out, I promise.”

“Great. Awesome.” Sage turned toward the door, waving. “I’ll talk to you later!”