Page 3 of Truly, Madly, Deeply

Sharp, staticky laughter burst from the speakers as Truly’s best friend laughed. “I’m kinda partial to this circle. Lust and all that jazz.”

Great. Now she was going to be humming showtunes for the rest of the day. Mom and Dad would be so proud.

“If I tell you something, will you promise not to, like, have a conniption?” Truly pulled into the Starbucks drive-through behind a silver Tesla.

“Who the fuck your age even says conniption? Lord, people my age don’t say that. I don’t even think my mother’s used that word. My grandma, maybe, but she’s older than graveyard dirt.”

“Lulu.”

“True-True.”

Fuck it. “I broke up with Justin.”

A beat of silence passed, long enough that she dug her phone out of her cupholder to make sure her Bluetooth connection hadn’t dropped. “Lu?”

“Sorry, I’m here. I’m just trying to find the right words to express my heartfelt sympathy because I know you were, like, in love with that sentient jar of mayo, but fuck, babe. I kind of want to bust out a bottle of Bollinger Brut and have a party.” Lulu huffed. “And this? This is why I wasn’t saying anything. You interrupted my thought gathering and now I’ve put my foot in my mouth. Don’t hate me.”

“A sentient jar of mayo?” Damn. As far as insults went, that was impressive. “Permission to use that in a book?”

“Granted,” Lulu said. “Better put me in your acknowledgments, though.”

“As if you aren’t already in all of them in perpetuity.”

Lulu hummed, pleased. “So, you’re not mad at me for likening your ex to the most loathsome condiment on the planet?”

“As if I wasn’t well aware you didn’t approve.” She eased off the brake as the car in front of her moved up to order. “You haven’t exactly been subtle.”

“I’ve tried! You’ve gotta admit, I’ve toned down the snark by, like, fifty percent in the last two years.”

“You have, and I appreciate you trying to make nice. Or I did.” Now she couldn’t give less of a damn. “So no, I’m not mad at you. Justin, on the other hand...”

“What did the fucker do this time? It must’ve been something awful if it finally forced you to see the light. Do I need to rearrange his face? If you’re good for bail money, I’m down. I’ve been itching to take a swing at that wannabe rockstar for ages.”

Eight years of knowing Lulu and Truly could still only reliably tell if she was joking a good seventy-five percent of the time. “If you promise not to resort to violence, I’ll tell you what happened as soon as I’m done ordering my coffee.”

“Cross my heart.”

She pulled up to the drive-through and ordered her usual, plus an extra shot of espresso for good measure.

“Okay, you remember how Justin practically begged me to drop by and feed his fish while he’s on tour? And how I didn’t want his fish to die just because he didn’t have anyone else who could do it, so I said yes?”

“Do I remember being pissed to high heaven that he had the audacity to ask you for a favor a mere week after telling you he wanted to take a break? Sounds familiar. Go on.”

“He must’ve gotten his dates screwed up because I let myself into his apartment today and was greeted by the lovely sight of Justin getting his dick sucked by a pretty, leggy blonde with really fantastic tits.”

As a lifelong card-carrying member of the Itty-Bitty Titty Committee, she wasn’t going to lie and say it didn’t sting that Justin had chosen a girl to cheat with who was her aesthetic opposite in almost every way.

“His mother should’ve swallowed, I swear.” Lulu paused. “Are you okay?”

Sorely undercaffeinated and a little emotionally bruised, but when she did a quick self-diagnostic, it was her ego that had taken the hit, not her heart. “I’m fine.”

“Truly.”

“I mean it. Just a sec.” She pulled up to the next window and handed her card to the cashier before accepting her receipt and coffee. “Okay, fine. I’m pissed, but more about how it went down and less that we’re over. He had the nerve to tell me that my proposing to him made him feel emasculated.”

“God, I hate that son of a bitch.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m livid. But mostly? I’m... God, I’m so over it.” Sick and tired of Justin’s waffling, waiting for him to grow up, being put through the emotional wringer, putting effort into a relationship and being met with the bare minimum. “I’m honestly more concerned with what the hell I’m supposed to post on Instagram.”

---