optimism, while being the fiercest and most loyal person alive. It sometimes amazed Grace that Hope had never gotten married or had children. Not because Grace thought there was anything wrong with that choice. In fact, in light of Grace’s impending divorce, she was starting to think she should’ve followed in Hope’s footsteps. No, she was amazed because when Hope loved someone, she stuck. She was even godmother to the children of two of her former boyfriends.
Joy sighed and rubbed her temple with two fingers. “Of course he was at the office. And it’s not even tax season. If it wasn’t for his fear of STDs, I’d suspect he was having an affair.”
Grace bit down on her tongue. Hard. Three months ago, she’d have sworn her husband wasn’t having an affair either. There hadn’t been one sign. Not even a slowdown in their love life. They’d been making love once a week, just like clockwork, on Tuesdays after a night out for dinner at their favorite sushi restaurant. She hadn’t even minded that the variety was gone or that Bill often had trouble keeping it up unless she was giving him a blow job. He’d always taken care of her needs, and that was enough, right?
No. Not right.
It turned out that he’d had trouble keeping it up because he was dipping his pecker in the office blonde. Grace let out a low growl as an image of the perky younger woman flashed in her mind. She sneered and wished them both an acute case of the genital warts Joy had mentioned. Her hand tightened around the wine glass as she jerked it back up to her lips.
“Um, Grace?” Joy said, lightly placing her hand on Grace’s arm. “You might not want to drink that.”
Grace froze and eyed the glass. She blinked and then frowned at the now putrid-smelling green liquid. “What the hell?”
“Looks like you turned your wine into some sort of potion.” Joy eyed the liquid. “A really nasty one. What the heck were you thinking about?”
“Ohmigod!” Grace jumped up and ran over to the edge of the cliff and flung the putrid potion into the ocean. The saltwater would neutralize it.
“That bad, huh?” Hope asked from right behind her, laughing.
“STD bad,” Grace confirmed. She closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath. “Genital warts.”
“Holy shit, Grace.” Joy snorted. “It’s a damned good thing I stopped you.”
An entire body shudder shook Grace to the core. “Good goddess. I can’t believe I just did that.”
“I can.” Joy swept her long hair out of her eyes and smiled gently at Grace. “You’ve been hurt. Wounded and—”
“Joy,” Grace said with a heavy sigh. She didn’t want to think about how devastated she’d been for the first few weeks after her husband replaced her. It had been a dark time, and she was just now starting to feel like she was ready to move on. “Do we need to do this now?”
“Yes,” Joy said, her eyes glinting in the moonlight. “It’s time to reclaim your self-confidence.”
“I have self-confidence,” Grace insisted, looking around for the bottle of wine. If she’d ever needed another drink, now was the time.
“Of course, you do. That’s why I said reclaim it. Now is the time to acknowledge what happened and what you went through so you can completely let it go.” She produced the wine bottle she’d apparently been holding behind her back. “Hope and I are your witnesses.”
“Exactly.” Hope stepped up to form a small three-person circle and held out a box wrapped in silver paper. “These are for you and your interview tomorrow.”
“What? You didn’t have to get me anything.” Grace stared at the box and felt her heart swell. Who needed a no-good husband when she had friends like Hope and Joy?
“We didn’t have to, but we wanted to. It’s just a little something for your interview tomorrow.” Hope took the bottle of wine from Grace and placed it and the box in the middle of their circle. “Now, repeat after me.”
Grace snorted. “We’re doing a ritual without candles?”
“I have candles,” Joy said, flicking her wrist and pointing at the shoulder bag she’d left on the ground. Three large white pillar candles slipped out of the canvas and floated through the air until they stopped right in the middle of their small circle. With another flick of her wrist, the candles came to life, their flames flickering in the wind.