“Are you seriously going to another retreat?” Christina threw her head back and laughed, her black hair spilling down her back. We’d already had too many drinks, and I’d pay for it in the morning, but I didn’t care. I only got to see her twice a year since she’d moved back to Texas. “Haven’t you already been to one?”

I drained the rest of my mojito and waved down our server for another. “Three, but this one is different.”

“How different can they be?” she asked.

“Each one targets something else,” I said. “The last one focused on forgiveness.”

“You spent three days in the desert forgiving?” She smirked, trying not to crack a joke.

“Shut up.” I playfully smacked her arm across the table. “It’s not even like that. The whole purpose was to gain a new perspective on forgiveness. I didn’t realize there were so many people I needed to forgive.”

We’d gone into an abandoned house and spray-painted the names of everyone we’d ever resented on the walls. Then we’d taken turns beating them down with a bat. We destroyed every wall in the house, and the final ceremony was setting the house on fire while we chanted songs of release. It was one of the most powerful experiences of my life, but she’d never understand it because it was too irrational for her logical, pragmatic brain. That was one of the reasons she and Scott were such good friends and why both of them were amazing at their jobs. They’d met in English class during our freshman year at college. He’d brought her back to our apartment to study one night, and the three of us had been friends ever since.

“Are you working on a follow-up story?” she asked.

I shrugged. My story had gone to press over two weeks ago, and when I’d gone back to talk to Ray about all the backlash and what he thought about it, he’d invited me to become a member of Love International. I was considering his invitation but hadn’t made up my mind yet, and writing another article would be the same as saying no.

“So what are you still doing there?”

“I just like being there, and you would, too, if you’d give it a try. Just come with me this weekend.”

She shook her head, draining what was left in her glass. “No way. Jerry is coming into town this weekend, and you know there’s no way I’m missing out on that good loving.” It’d been less than a year since she’d divorced her husband, Rick, and she hadn’t wasted any time getting back into the dating scene. She complained they hadn’t had sex for the last two years, so she had to make up for lost time. I didn’t know any guy could go that long without sex, but she swore she wasn’t exaggerating. “Just promise me that you’re not going to turn into Rita and get all born again, okay?” she asked.