Tara Quinn - The Friendship Pact

I tried so hard to read that dark expression on my friend’s face, but her signals were more scrambled than usual.

I was confused. And frightened. For both of us.

“Damn him,” Bailey said, throwing herself back in her seat, elbows on the arms of her chair, fingers steepled. Like a certain judge we’d both known used to do at the dinner table when he was displeased.

Not that I was going to tell her that. At least not then.

“What gives him the right to put this kind of pressure on me?” she said, her tone just short of biting.

“I’ve told him repeatedly not to build us into more than we were. I wouldn’t move in with him even when it looked like I wasn’t going to be able to make my rent last summer before I started getting paid. I pay my way when we go out. I make life decisions without consulting him....”

All things I’d heard Danny list, too. What Bailey saw as fair play, honesty, kindness, Danny saw as insults and grievances against his friend.

“But you love him and he loves you, Bail,” I said softly, wishing I could promise her that she’d never be hurt again, that her heart would be safe with Jake, that there’d be a happily ever after.

Her eyes narrowed as she studied me and for the first time I felt...less. Like I wasn’t as good as Bailey was, or as smart. I felt that way because she seemed to be looking at me that way. Like I was some kid who just didn’t get it. Some naive little girl who couldn’t see reality.

Bailey and I...we saw things differently a lot. Our different perspectives were part of what made our friendship so strong. But we were always equals. “Love isn’t enough.”

“It can be,” I said, struggling to get through to her. As we grew older, she’d also gained an ability to hold me at bay. Or her skin was thicker. Or something.

But I knew she was in there. And my job was not to give up on her. Even now, I didn’t doubt our connection. Or our commitment to each other.

“I saw thirteen clients today,” Bailey said, her eyes shadowed but completely dry. “Ten yesterday,” she added. “And I’ve got another eleven scheduled for tomorrow.”

She was busy. I understood that. Was proud as hell of her abilities. If she wasn’t such a great lawyer, the partners wouldn’t let her, the junior member of their firm, take so many cases.

“This isn’t about time, Bail. Jake understands your schedule. He works a lot, too.”

“Time wasn’t my point.” The anger in her eyes struck fear in my heart.

I was losing her slowly, hour by hour, day by day, Bailey’s spirit was evaporating and I didn’t know what to do. “I’m sorry,” I said. “What was your point?”

“These are all separation and divorce cases, Koralynn. Every one of these couples was in love. Do you think they started out hating each other? Disbelieving everything their partner said? Do you think they expected all their dreams to turn into ashes?” Bailey’s voice gained momentum as she spoke and the fear nearly choked me. “I’d guess that every one of these couples had romantic wedding pictures, Kor. They had magic and passion and love. They walked down the aisle, or stood before the judge, with the best of intentions, with the belief that they’d stay together for life.”

I wanted to argue with her. To find fault with her logic. Usually, when it came to emotion, I could find the answers. For both of us.

But not this time.

“I just can’t do it, Kor,” Bailey said, her voice sorrowful, but firm, too. “I’d rather lose Jake now, while we still care for and respect each other, then go through the months or years it takes for hate to set in. I don’t want to hate Jake, ever. And I can’t bear the thought of him hating me.”

I wasn’t the least bit surprised to find out that I’d been right. She’d broken off with Jake because she’d finally admitted to herself that she was in love with him.

The rest...I wasn’t prepared. Had no idea what to say to counteract her lack of faith. To reinstill lost hope.

Worse, I was scared now, not just for her, but for me. Danny and I, we’d had two horrible fights. I worried there might be a third that evening. Oh, I knew couples fought. Danny and I fought. But those two times weren’t the same. He’d said things, I’d said things...the words lingered there, between us, like a screen that had never been there before.

Was that what Bailey saw? What she was trying to avoid?

“My mom and dad don’t hate each other.” The words came out of my mouth as they occurred to me.

“I know.”

Okay. Good. We were on our way out of the muck Bailey had pulled us into.

“I think they’re the exception that proves the rule.” Her words sank us again.

I was getting desperate. So I asked, “What about Danny and me?”

Her silence left my ears ringing.

“Bailey?”

“What?”

“You don’t think Danny and I are going to make it?”

“Actually I do.” My friend’s smile was reminiscent of an eleven-year-old Bailey with an added decade of maturity. It was soft and vulnerable and completely sincere. “You’re blessed, Kor,” she said, her voice more than her words falling over me, around me, encompassing me in the bubble where only Bailey and I existed and everything would be all right. “Not all marriages fail,” she went on. “But let’s face it, my luck isn’t as good as yours and the percentages aren’t good enough for me to take the risk.”

“Why not?” Leaning forward, I pleaded with her. “Even one chance in a million would be worth the risk. Just to have that chance—”

She shook her head. “My chance would be more like one in a trillion,” she said. And before I could open my mouth to voice my vehement denial, she continued. “I’m not relationship material, Kor. I’m too cynical. And too analytical. I know too much. I expect too much.”

“You don’t expect anything at all.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” she said. “I just don’t trust people to meet my expectations.”

“What are you saying?”

“In a committed relationship of any kind—from business to...to the personal—I’d need those expectations to be met.”

Personal? The room was cold. I was cold.

“What about us?” I asked.

Her entire face changed. Softened. From the look in her eye, the tautness of her skin, the set of her shoulders...Everything about her suddenly relaxed. “You, my friend are my one piece of good luck. I have faith in us.” I started to breathe easier again.

“I’d give you a kidney, Bail.” My voice was thick with tears, but I didn’t have anything to hide from her. With Bailey I could be completely and wholly myself.

“I’d give you two,” she said in return, her eyes tearing up.

We were fine. With that bond strengthening me, I could do anything.

And that included helping Bailey trust in her own ability to love and be loved. I had my work cut out for me. Jake might not wait to be “the one.” But someday, somehow, I would be standing next to this remarkable woman as she promised to love and to cherish until death did them part.

Or some version thereof.

Bailey was going to have the family she wanted and deserved. She was going to have joy.

One way or another. That was my vow.

Chapter Six

“...aaanndd arm to the back, swing, keep your abdominals tucked in, pull up through your middle. Good and repeat....”

Lori Hildebrand, fitness instructor extraordinaire, snapped her fingers to the beat of the music as she walked through the rows of mats dotting the sprung wood floor of her studio. Bailey swung back, around, forward and down, rolling up through her center right on cue. Snap and back. Snap and around. Snap and forward....

Beside Bailey in their Thursday night class, Koralynn managed to make her movements look more like dance. Where Bailey was tight, Kora was loose.