Chapter 2 – The Decision

Clara

"C?" Dana's voice crackled through the phone, a lifeline in the storm of my emotions. But I was drowning, unable to form coherent words. Jake's betrayal etched itself relentlessly into my mind.

"Are you okay?" The concern in her voice sharpened. "Talk to me, or I'll have you tracked down in five seconds!"

That threat, a testament to Dana's fierce loyalty and technological prowess, finally broke through the numbness. "I'm here, D," I rasped, my voice thick with tears. "Can you pick me up?"

"Why,what's wrong?" The keysrustling jingled through the speaker. "Where are you?"

"Downtown Park," I managed, my fingers fumbling to send her a location pin. "I just... can't drive right now."

"Got it. Five minutes," she barked, then added, softer, "I'm going to kill that motherfucker asshole."

The line went dead, but her words hung in the air—a grim promise. Dana, the firecracker to my damp squib, had always been my protector. She knew enough about Jake to infer the cause of my distress without needing me to spell it out. After all, there was only one other thing capable of reducing me to this state: a morning without coffee.

True to her word, Dana screeched to a halt beside me five minutes later, her wild driving serving as a testament to her urgency. As I climbed into the passenger seat, the floodgates opened, and the sobs I'd been holding back erupted in a torrent.

Dana didn't say a word; she just let me cry, her hand occasionally squeezing my shoulder in silent support. When we reached her apartment building, she circled the block three times at my request, giving me a few more minutes to purge my pain.

Finally, we parked, and the tears continued to flow. Dana handed me tissues without comment, her presence bringing comforting warmth to the cold emptiness that had settled in my heart.

Dana and I go way back, even before we were born. Our parents, friends since their own college days, discovered they were both expecting daughters around the same time. This sparked a mission to forge a bond between their unborn children, a mission that succeeded beyond their wildest dreams. We arrived in the world mere weeks apart, our mothers sharing a hospital room, their laughter echoing through the maternity ward.

Growing up in the shadow of the Adirondack Mountains, we were inseparable. Our childhood was a tapestry of shared adventures, from building forts in the woods to swimming in the crystal-clear lakes. We explored the High Peaks Wilderness, its rugged beauty seeping into our souls, forging a bond that transcended mere friendship.

Even when Dana's family moved to the next town over to be closer to their relatives, our connection remained unbreakable. We spent weekends camping, hiking, and confiding in each other under the starlit sky. Our bond deepened with each passing year, a testament to the unique alchemy of childhood friendships.

College, with its diverging paths and geographical distances, failed to dim our connection. Though I stayed on the East Coast, while Dana soared to an Ivy League institution on the West Coast, we made it a point to reunite during holidays and breaks. Our regular phone calls and emails bridged the miles, ensuring that our friendship remained a constant in our ever-changing lives.

Ten years had passed since we embarked on our respective career paths. Despite being well-established in our respective fields in our early thirties, the bond we forged in childhood remained unwavering. This is why, on this fateful morning, I found myself sobbing uncontrollably in Dana's car, the shattered remnants of my relationship with Jake strewn across my heart.

The realization that Jake didn't deserve me was a bitter pill to swallow, but it did little to quell the pain of betrayal. The dreams we had woven together and the future we had envisioned now lay in ruins. The hurt was raw and visceral, a gaping wound that refused to heal.

"Are you ready to talk now?" Dana's gentle voice finally broke through the sobs that had wracked my body for the past hour.

I nodded, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. It all felt so surreal, like a scene from a terrible soap opera. But the lingering scent of Jake's cologne on my skin and the harsh fluorescent lights of his office burning into my memory reminded me it was all too real.

I managed to croak out, "I caught Jake... with his secretary." "This morning. In his office." The words tasted like bile in my mouth.

But as I said them aloud, a strange sense of relief washed over me. It was like a dam had burst inside of me, releasing a torrent of emotions that had been building up for months, maybe even years. "It's over," I declared, the words heavy with finality.

Dana, my rock, confidante, and partner in crime, enveloped me in a hug that felt like coming home. "Oh, honey," she murmured into my hair. "I'm so sorry you had to see that. But that son of a..." she trailed off, her voice thick with anger.

She pulled back, her eyes blazing with a righteous fury that warmed my chilled heart. "I'm so glad you're done with him. He doesn't deserve you, not one bit. You're too excellent for that cheating bastard."

A fresh wave of tears flowed down my cheeks, but this time they weren't tears of pain. They were tears of gratitude for the unwavering support of my best friend. Dana consistently managed to uplift my spirits, even during the most challenging moments.

"Come on," she said, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the door. "Let's not waste this moment wallowing. We're going to drink tequila, eat pizza, and bitch about that no-good ex of yours until we're hoarse. I've been longing to open a bottle of Patrón.

As I stumbled after her, a flicker of hope ignited in my soul. This wasn't the end; it was a new beginning. With Dana by my side, I knew I could face anything.

For the rest of the afternoon, we transformed into a blur of tequila shots, greasy noodles, and tear-stained tissues. Bottles of Patrón disappeared, replaced by half-eaten cartons of Kung Pao chicken and empty pizza boxes. I cried, I laughed, I puked (more times than I care to admit), and somewhere in the midst of it all, a strange sense of peace settled over me.

But as the alcohol wore off and the first rays of morning light peeked through the blinds, a wave of dread washed over me. Reality, harsh and unforgiving, was waiting for me just beyond the haze of the tequila hangover. There were phone calls to make, cancellations to deal with, and the ghost of a wedding dress haunting my closet.

"D?" I mumbled, my voice raspy and thick with sleep.

Dana, who looked remarkably fresh considering the amount of tequila she'd consumed, raised an eyebrow. "What's up, C?"

"Do you think true love exists?" I slurred the words, barely coherent.

She smiled with a soft, wistful expression on her face. "I do," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "Look at our parents. They've got something real, something deep." She paused, her eyes gazing into the distance as if lost in a memory. "True love is out there, C. We just haven't found it yet."

"Or maybe it hasn't found us yet," I murmured, a sliver of hope piercing the gloom.

"Maybe," Dana echoed, her voice fading as I drifted off to sleep. However, a tiny spark of hope emerged from the darkness. As my eyes fluttered closed, I clung to that spark, knowing that even in the face of heartbreak, there was always the possibility of a new beginning.