Tara Taylor Quinn - The Friendship Pact

But I was willing to live with them if that was what it took to have my friend back. To be the friend she needed. Maybe all friendships faced this. A growing up. I swallowed back tears. Like I’d said, I wasn’t a kid anymore. I was a wife. Soon to be an expectant mother.

And I had more than most.

“I want you to be honest with me, Kor.”

“I’m always honest with you.”

“No, I mean, I want you to do exactly what you’re doing.”

“Giving up?”

“No.” I straightened as silence fell between us.

“You want me to continue showing you the way I see you...” I said tentatively.

“Yes.”

Oh, my God. So I wasn’t losing it. My mind. Or our deep connection.

“You don’t agree with me,” I said.

“I know.”

“You believe I’m thinking of myself and what I want.”

“Yeah.”

“So where does that leave us?”

“Right where we’ve always been, I guess,” she said, sounding tired, too, but better somehow. “We keep yakking until one or the other of us sees the light.”

“So you’ll wait to do anything until we’ve...reached a consensus?”

“Yeah. As long as we keep trying to figure out which of us is screwed up on this one.”

I swallowed again, so relieved to have my friend back.

“I love you, Bail.”

“Love you, too.”

I went to bed. And slept.

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