more than she wants to talk the subject to death,” Karma replied. “I mean, what’s there to talk about? It’s over between you and Thom-ass, and Leta knows it. Her emotions aren’t from wanting you guys back together. I think she really thinks Thom-ass doesn’t care about how much his actions hurt her. Maybe she really just needs to hear him apologize.”
“She wants him to hurt,” I told her. “She said as much.”
“She said that?”
“Yeah,” I nodded. “She said she hopes I’m dating Sayer and that it breaks Thomas’ heart to see us together.”
“You’re going to have to encourage them or her to get counseling, Mon,” she said. “Whether it repairs her relationship with her father or not, she needs to talk to someone. She needs somewhere safe to purge all the hate she has in her heart for Thom-ass and this situation.”
I downed the last of the wine in my glass and poured another one. “I hadn’t thought of it like that before. Whenever I thought about counseling, I pictured it for the both of them, together,” I admitted. “I never considered individual counseling for Leta only.”
Karma shrugged a shoulder before pouring herself another glass of wine. “There’s also a chance that if counseling for them is suggested by a certified doctor of the mind, instead of his ex-wife, Thom-ass would actually consider going with Leta,” she offered. “It’s worth a shot.”
“Maybe,” I conceded.
“All I know is that you have to get this shit cleared up before the wedding,” she said, another gulp of wine under her belt.
I laughed. “I don’t think his co-worker was serious.”
Her blonde brows drew down. “Why not?” But before I could answer, she added, “More to the point, why wouldn’t you want to marry that man?”
I laughed. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the crashing and burning of my first marriage?”
Her pretty face still looked confused. Karma really was the perfect blonde hair/blue eyes beauty next door. “You said he had a nine-inch dick,” she exclaimed. “Does Thom-ass?” She scoffed. “That average-sized dick asshole did you a favor by divorcing you. Had it not been for him being a complete snatch napkin, you would never have known a nine-inch dick. For three nights in a row.”
Okay, so sue me. The wine has made me a little loose-lipped.
I shook my head. “I never should have told you about the size of his dick,” I grumbled. “That’s private.”
Karma cocked her head. “You know the size of Vernon’s dick,” she pointed out.
My eyes rounded. “But I had never asked to know that piece of information,” I reminded her. “You just clubbed me over the head with that detail one night.”
“Can you blame me?”
“Yes, Karm, I can,” I retorted. A few years back, when I had still been with Thomas, I had called Karma to help me redecorate our home office, and she had overshared by telling me she was out of commission because she had finally given up the ass, and the soreness from sitting on a cucumber-sized cock was no joke.
I still blush every time Vernon serves salads with cut-up cucumbers at their barbecues.
“Look, cocks aside, you’re fucking glowing, Monroe,” she said. “That’s love.”
I shook my head. “It’s called getting laid after three years, Karm,” I replied. “While I like Sayer a lot, I’m not sure it’s love. And the last thing I want to do is confuse love with lust.”
“You know why I think it’s love?” she asked, and I nodded. “Because you’re not a bumbling idiot around him anymore.”
I almost spit my wine out. “What?”
“He’s made you comfortable to be around him, Mon,” she said. “I’ve been sitting here listen to you talk about Leta and Sayer, and it sounds like the real you again. Leta’s challenging, but you’ve always been a good mother with her.” She shrugged. “As for Sayer, this entire time you haven’t mentioned his age or yours. You haven’t mentioned appearances like most women our age do. And not to rag on you, but considering what that man looks like, most women would be worried about the tracks of age.” Karma reached out and squeezed my arm before grabbing her glass again and taking another drink. “You feel comfortable and confident around him. It sounds like you feel safe, and that’s big considering what that jerkface, Thomas, did to you.”
“It’s too soon for love,” I argued. “No matter how much all that might be true, we’ve only spent three days together, Karma. Three.”
“Love had no timeline, Monroe,” she chided. “You know