She knocks on the window and I’m still crying and I can’t stop and I want so badly to tell her to fuck off… I lean over with shameful tears slipping down my face and roll down the window.

“Why are you following me?” I croak. She just stares for a bit, probably assessing how crazy I am before she snaps out of it and responds.

“You forgot Moose’s carrier.”

“Oh.” I open the door, expecting her to hand it over but instead she climbs in. I want to glare at her and tell her to get the fuck out of the passenger seat, because that’s where Kat used to sit, but I don’t. She tosses the carrier in the backseat where Moose crawled back to nap and turns her face to me.

“What’s wrong?”

“What’s it to you?” I shoot back rudely, but my tone is pitiful and sad instead of snarky and I know she sees right through me.

“Do you like coffee?”

“What?”

“I know this great coffee place. Come on, I’ll drive you there and then you can tell me all about Moose.”

I want to say “screw you,” but all that comes out is, “sure.”