For once, Verda was at a loss when it came to the woman she considered her best friend. It had been a few days of silence and out of desperation, she’d asked the other woman to meet her at the restaurant. It was a safer bet than having this conversation in the privacy of one of their apartments, but truth be told, she wanted to ghost over it all and forget that it’d ever happened in the first place. “I ordered us margs,” she exhaled, watching as the other woman took a seat across from her before dark hues fell on the salsa between them. Did she apologize? No. She didn’t feel the need to, yet guilt ate her anyway.