Page 8 of Justice for Puck Bunnies

She sucks in a breath and steels her face.

Shit. Here it is. At the worst possible time.

“Dean asked me to marry him.”

Oof. Not a shred of excitement there. Did it go bad?

“How do you feel about that?” I asked.

“I’m worried about you.”

“Jolie, I’ll be fine. You didn’t tell him no because of me, did you?”

“I told him yes.”

“You told him yes?”

She grins and nods.

“You told him yes!” I shriek and jump to my feet. Plates rattle when I slap my hands onto the table.

“I told him yes!” she repeats. Her sharp bob flies as she does the same.

We each rush around the table and crash into a mangled knot of trapped limbs.

Joline Carroll is not a crier, never has been, but she’s bawling big, heavy, happy tears that stream down her face and soak my shoulders.

“Hey there, missus!” I tell her as we sway side to side, locked in our embrace. “You have to tell me everything. How did he do it? Where is the ring?”

Jolie regales me of every last detail. Her ring is being sized, but otherwise her afternoon was the definition of perfect.

The fajitas become thoroughly picked over and the pan grows cold to the touch.

“Wait, why were you so tentative when you told me?” I ask.

“I didn’t want to upset you. You know, because of Brad.”

“Eh, don’t worry about Brad. I’m figuring it out.”

“I know you will, Izzy. You always do. And also, there’s one other thing.”

“Yes, I will absolutely be your maid of honor.”

“No—I mean, yes, obviously, but that’s not what I mean. I do have some bad news.”

“Whatever it is, we can handle it.”

She squares her shoulders and collects her thoughts.

“I’m letting go of the apartment. It doesn’t make sense to renew for another year. It’ll mean I can save up some money for the wedding.”

“Sounds like a great plan. I’ve got a little tucked away. I can sublet from you for at least a few months.”

“That’s not what I mean. My lease expires in two weeks. Nine days, actually. Dean’s gonna pay the break fee for not renewing right before the new term. We’re ready to start our lives together.”

“Oh,” I say, and it sets in that in less than two weeks I’ll no longer be living with my best friend.

We’ve been roommates for years in this apartment. The idea of staying here without her suddenly stings.

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