Gabby "Walk This Way"

"No." You finally work up the nerve to say it.

Maddie: "What the fuck do you mean, 'no'?" She crosses her arms tightly, leaning forward until she's staring directly into your eyes. "I fucking told you to do something."

You don't answer. You've dealt with the degradation, the disrespect, and the yelling for far too long.

Maddie slowly straightens, her eyes narrowing. She waits for the familiar response—for you to back down, apologize, give her something.

It doesn't come.

Something shifts in her expression. Her eyes widen slightly as surprise gives way to anger.

Maddie, sharply: "Then get the fuck out of my apartment. We're fucking done."

For a moment, neither of you moves.

Then you turn away. Your eyes remain locked with hers for another second before you finally look toward the door. You open it, step into the hallway, and leave Maddie standing behind you.

Outside, the night air is cool against your skin—a stark contrast to the heat of the last few minutes. A light drizzle has started, speckling the pavement as you make your way down the sidewalk.

It feels good.

You've been walking for nearly thirty minutes when your phone buzzes.

You ignore it.

Another buzz.

Then another.

Finally, annoyed, you pull out your phone.

It's not Maddie.

Gabby: I heard about Maddie.

Gabby: Are you okay?

Gabby: ...stupid question.

Gabby: Come over. I've got ice cream waiting.

A moment later, another message arrives.

Her address.

You pull it up on your phone.

Five minutes away.

---

By the time you reach Gabby's apartment, the drizzle has left tiny droplets clinging to your clothes. You stop outside her door and knock.

There's immediate movement from somewhere inside.

Footsteps approach.

The lock clicks.

The door swings open.

Gabby stands on the other side, and the moment she sees you, her expression softens into a warm smile.

Gabby: "You made it."

She steps aside and pulls the door open wider, leaving a clear path into the warmly lit apartment behind her.

Gabby: "Come in."