Hiding at her parents’ house wasn’t ideal. The maids were in and out of her room, her mom sent a tray with lunch, and then her dad knocked on her door. And finally, Marielle faked needing to visit a friend having an emergency and left. Her brother was in the garage again when she came downstairs, and she got it. She wished her problems were as easy for the world to see as Darian standing there with an unlit cigarette. But hers were different.

      She was the one with a weakness for men and making dumb choices…could that be called addiction too?

      She left in a cloud of muddy snow as she sped away from her problems. There was a wistful sort of regret that engulfed her as she got on the Long Island Expressway and headed back toward Manhattan.

       Dang.

      This must be how Inigo felt when he was racing. There was a certain freedom from everything but the road and concentrating on the path ahead of her. Maybe she should take up driving professionally.

      As soon as the thought popped into her head, she hit an icy patch and her car hydroplaned for a minute, fishtailing wildly on the road. She took her foot off the gas as she saw her life flash before her eyes.

       Damn.

      She slowed the car and pulled onto the shoulder. Her hands were shaking, and her heart was racing. She didn’t want to die. She sat there. The silence in the car made her ears ring, and finally she turned on the radio. “About Last Night” was playing, so she flipped the station and heard Debussy’s “La mer.” Yeah, classical was good. Just what she needed right now.

      She dug into her purse and found her phone. Scarlet had texted her.

      Are you okay? I wish you hadn’t left like that.

      What could she say?

      I’m not great. I’m sorry. I could tell I was freaking her out, and you know I’m not good in those situations. I hope I didn’t make things awkward for you.

      Scarlet and Siobhan had been the first women friends she’d genuinely had in years, and she hadn’t wanted to screw it up. But maybe she had. Maybe she should stop trying and just enjoy the train wreck that was usually her life.

      You didn’t. Well, it was awkward, but I feel like both of you were freaked. If you want to talk, I’m going to be in the city until Friday. Let’s have coffee…by that I mean you drink the coffee and I smell it and pretend that I’m having some.

      Marielle felt a wave of relief go through her.

      Thank you. I’d love that. I’m heading back to New York now. My parents’ house was stifling. I’m sorry again for this morning.

      I know the feeling. No problem. Can’t wait to catch up.

      She tossed the phone back into her bag before she asked for Inigo’s number. A part of her felt like she should say something to resolve the situation with him, but another part—the smarter part—knew there would be no resolution. She could keep him in her memories as a fun night. And that was all.

      Her phone rang, and she glanced at the caller ID. It was her friend Siobahn Murphy, who was the lead singer of Venus Rising. The two liked to party together, and she was always down for a good time. Just what Marielle needed at this moment.

      “Hey, girl, happy New Year,” she said as she answered the speakerphone and got back on the road.

      No more driving fast to outrun her problems. She sat in the slow lane going a respectable speed.

      “Hiya. Scar texted me,” Siobahn said. “What the hell happened?”

      “I’m not sure. I mean, I met this cute guy and he was funny and flirty. Even his dad was funny, encouraging him to talk to me. We kissed at midnight…it was hot,” Marielle said. More than hot. It had made her see him as more than a hookup. She had to be honest with herself. She hated the way things had ended with Inigo. But she doubted there was any way back from the current situation.

      “Yeah, and then?”

      “Then one thing led to another, and I spent the night with him,” she said.

      Siobahn wasn’t fishing for lurid sex details. But there was no way to explain the thing without mentioning that.

      “Then this morning he invited me to breakfast with his family, and I knew Scar would be there, so I was, like, sure,” Marielle said. Then she walked in and saw Jose’s wife staring at her like she was the most loathsome woman on the face of the planet… Maybe she’d skip mentioning that bit to Siobahn. “And…”

      “I know. You don’t have to say it. I’m in Manhattan. Come to my place. We can eat ice cream or drink wine or do whatever you need. Don’t go to your place alone,” Siobahn said. “You need someone to remind you that you aren’t that woman anymore.”

      “Thanks,” she said. She had changed a lot from who she’d been at twenty-one, and it had been a long hard road with lots of pitfalls. But she had changed. She hadn’t made peace with all of her past, but one thing she had made were good friends like Siobahn. She’d been the one who’d introduced her to Scarlet and had started her on this path.

      “I’ll text you when I’m close.”

      “I’ll be here. I’m eating leftover ham, which isn’t healthy, but I’m a bit hungover,” Siobahn said.

      Marielle had to laugh. She didn’t drink like that anymore but remembered those days. She hung up with her friend, realizing that Bianca might never forgive her, but Marielle had to find a way to forgive herself. She couldn’t keep beating herself up for old sins.

      Not saying it would be easy, but she was going to definitely make that one of her resolutions.