Page 8 of Serendipity

“Maybe.”

She stops working and forces me to look at her. “What else?”

See. This is the problem with being friends with someone for so long. They know your tells and what’s going on in your head.

“You’ve seen Stone, right?”

The corner of her mouth lifts in a grin and she waggles her eyebrows. “Oh, boy, have I.”

With a heavy sigh, I gesture to myself.

Her eyes narrow. “Shut your mouth.”

“I didn’t say anything,” I reply.

“You didn’t have to. And I don’t want to hear the thoughts in your head right now because they’re stupid and misplaced and come from Brett being Brett which means a total dick. You’re a catch and Stone saw that right away. Why do you think he’s been panting after you for the past year?”

I scoff. “Panting is a pretty strong word choice.”

“Not from where I’m sitting, sister. Trust me. He’s into you. The question is, are you into him?”

“No.” She grins and I huff. “Fine. Maybe? Probably?”

“Get him, girl! You deserve to have a guy look at you the way Stone does. All I ask is that when he finally gets off his ass and asks you out, say yes.”

“I’ll do my best,” I promise, not expecting it to happen anytime soon. “Now your turn. How are things?” I ask gently.

As devastated as I was when Brett asked me for a divorce, Carissa was completely gutted. Unlike me, she saw it coming, but hoped it wouldn’t come to it. And she’s still desperately in love with her ex-husband.

“Okay. I took your advice and found a therapist.”

My eyes widen. “You did?”

She nods, keeping her gaze trained on the apples she’s slicing. “Yeah. I’ve gone three times now. And I spoke with my doctor, too, and he prescribed an anti-depressant. I started them two weeks ago,” she says, turning her head toward me with a smile.

“And how do you feel about that?” I ask quietly. When I first began taking anti-depressants years ago, she somewhat judged me. She apologized for it later, but initially had this idea in her head about taking a pill to help balance myself out that was misplaced.

“It was time,” she explains. “Probably long overdue, if I’m being honest. Can I tell you something that needs to stay between us?”

“Of course.”

“I don’t think anyone even realized it, but I haven’t been drinking tonight.”

Huh. I noticed she wasn’t drinking wine, but thought she was putting vodka in with her cranberry juice. Not that it matters. There are plenty of nights that we gather without alcohol.

“Because of your anti-depressants?”

“No. Because I’ve been drinking too much. Self-medicating, I guess.”

I reach over to her and hold her hand. “Wow, Carissa, I had no idea. Why didn’t you say anything? We didn’t need to be drinking tonight.”

“My therapist had suggested that, but nights like this one aren’t the issue. It’s when I go to bed at night and I’m alone in my thoughts that don’t seem to want to shut up. I wasn’t sleeping well, and at first it started only with a glass of wine to help me relax but then it turned into a nightly thing. And one glass turned into a bottle… or sometimes more. Each night,” she admits with a shrug. “It was becoming an addiction and I needed to address it before it got more out of control.”

“Do you know how awesome you are? It’s hard to make the decision on your own, let alone commit to making a change.”

“I don’t know about awesome. I’m not going to AA meetings or anything, but I’m not opposed to it, either. I haven’t had a drink since I started my meds and got this app on my phone for relaxing and kind of like meditation. It’s been helping, too. It helps me sleep at night and redirect my thoughts from all the crud.”

I grip her arm. “You know I’m here if you ever need anything. And if you feel the urge and need me to come sit with you at night, I’ll be here immediately.”

---