Page 124 of Love You Madly

With her long auburn hair piled into a messy bun and her hazel eyes sparkling with mischief, Taylor has a chaotic energy that always feels like home. She’s the one who’ll make you laugh until your sides hurt, even when you’re knee-deep in life’s messiest moments. It’s comforting to know I can always depend on her.

My big sister wraps me in a hug that feels exactly right at this moment, and I can’t help but laugh as I wipe my cheek, where some of her face mask has smudged when she held me tight. Looking around the room, I see the familiar faces of family and friends I haven’t had the opportunity to see in a while.

Meredith, Wayne’s daughter, lounges on the couch in oversized sweats and a faded basketball tee, her dark curls piled into a loose bun. With her effortless beauty, all she needs is a swipe of lip gloss and a confident smile. She’s nearly six feettall, towering over me as she stands to hug me. “Callie, I’ve been waiting for this day like it’s the season finale ofOne Tree Hill,” she says, squeezing me.

“It’s not that exciting,” I laugh. “But yeah, I miss that show way more than I’ll ever miss Adam.”

We share a hug before she settles back on the couch.

My cousin Olivia is setting up a mini nail salon on the coffee table, laying out every shade of nail polish imaginable, from classic reds to sparkly purples. With her dark curls and bright yellow sundress that pops against her tan, she waves a glittery nail file like a magic wand. “Tonight’s all about you,” she says with a wink. “No arguing—you’re getting the full mani-pedi treatment, like it or not.”

“Alright, if I must,” I say with a hint of sarcasm, though the idea sounds fantastic. I can’t even remember the last time I had any kind of spa treatment and my feet are killing me from being on them at the courthouse earlier today. “But I vote for black polish with silver on my ring finger—that’s the only bling I’ll ever need. I amnotgetting married again.”

Meredith rolls her eyes at that. “Girl, never say never,” she says, popping a bite-sized treat into her mouth. “Taylor tells us you’re seeing someone, and it’s gotten pretty serious.”

I shoot a glare in Taylor’s direction and she gives me a sorry expression. I guess everyone was bound to find out anyway. “Yes,” I admit, “I am seeing someone and yes, I suppose you could say it’s serious. But that doesn’t mean I’m getting married again.”

“I give it a year!” Brooke exclaims from the kitchen, and I cannot help but laugh.

After a moment, Brooke comes in with her arms full of baked goods that she sets down in a spread on the coffee table. Her hair is in her signature low-side ponytail, and she has a pink clay mask on that is cracking from her exaggeratedexpressions as she snorts at Taylor’s smeared face mask. “Oh my god, Taylor, you look like Shrek if he had a spa day that went horribly wrong.”

Taylor gasps, mock-offended, then bursts into laughter. “Says the one who looks like a Pepto-Bismol ad gone wrong.”

“Hey, this is a luxury brand, thank you very much,” Brooke retorts, pouring a glass of punch before handing it to me. “And besides, you can’t put a price on self-care, even if it makes you look like a pink goblin.”

I plop down between them, setting Sara on the floor with her toys. She immediately toddles over to the coffee table and grabs a handful of popcorn, stuffing it into her mouth, which makes me momentarily panic that she might choke. Lexi, Brooke’s daughter who’s a little older than Sara, sits beside her, carefully stacking blocks in a perfect little tower, her long blonde curls bouncing with every excited wiggle.

Brooke raises an eyebrow at me, her mask cracking even more with her smirk. “So, how does it feel to be a free woman?”

I think for a moment, trying to put words to the jumble of emotions swirling inside me. “Weirdly anticlimactic. I expected fireworks or at least some dramatic music, but nope. Just a judge with a coffee stain on her robe and a clerk who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. It's like the world kept spinning, and I’m still here trying to catch my breath.”

Taylor snorts, almost spilling her punch. “Classic. I always imagined my divorce would be some kind of dramatic movie moment, you know? Like, walking out with sunglasses on, flipping the bird. But it was mostly just me crying in the car while eating cold McDonald’s fries.”

Meredith nods sympathetically. “Yeah, divorce is never glamorous. It’s more like, ‘Here’s your paperwork, good luck figuring out the rest.’ But hey, at least you get a clean slate.”

“And cake!” Brooke announces with a flourish as shedisappears into the kitchen, only to re-emerge carrying a massive, eye-catching cake on a silver tray. It’s decorated in bright pink frosting with neon green accents, covered in edible sparkles, and reads in bold, cheeky letters:

SINGLE AND READY TO MINGLE (OR NOT).

I burst into laughter, my hand flying to my mouth. “Oh my god, Brooke, you actually baked a divorce cake?”

Brooke beams with pride, setting the cake on the coffee table. “Of course I did! This is my finest work—both pastry and petty combined. Because nothing says ‘moving on’ like cake with a side of sass.”

Olivia leans in closer, admiring the cake. “This is iconic—the perfect blend of ‘celebrate’ and ‘screw you.’”

Sara, blissfully ignoring the gravity of the occasion, crawls over and smacks her tiny hands into the cake, grabbing a fistful of frosting and smearing it across her face. Lexi squeals in delight and joins in, swiping a bit of frosting herself. The room erupts in laughter as Sara giggles, her face now a sticky mess of pink frosting and toddler joy.

“Well, I guess Sara’s officially blessed the cake,” Taylor laughs, handing me a fork. “Go on, Callie. Take the first bite of your freedom.”

I take the fork, digging into the part that says “MINGLE,” and savor the absurdly sweet, slightly too-sugary frosting. It’s ridiculous, over-the-top, and exactly what I need right now. “This is amazing, Brooke.”

Brooke grins, clearly pleased. “It’s what I do best—deliciously aggressive desserts. And hey, if anyone deserves a big ol’ slice of ‘screw you’ cake, it’s you, Callie.”

Meredith raises her punch glass, her eyes glimmering with a mixture of mischief and genuine warmth. “To newbeginnings, kicking exes to the curb, and the unpredictable chaos of whatever comes next!”

Taylor, Olivia, and Brooke all raise their glasses, and we clink them together, the sound echoing with joy and a hint of rebellion. Lexi and Sara clap their frosting-covered hands in unison, adding their own gleeful applause, and I can’t help but laugh. Tonight isn’t about pretending everything’s perfect; it’s about reveling in the mess, finding the joy in between the cracks, and knowing that no matter what comes next, I’m surrounded by the people who will laugh with me, cry with me, and always, always show up with cake.

As we dig into the cake, chatter fills the room, drowning out the noise of the day. And for the first time since I walked out of that courthouse, I feel truly free—not just from the past, but from the weight of it all. And that, I realize, is worth celebrating.

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