Cathy stabbed into her cake, the odd silent treatment making the last ten minutes feel like an hour. Since arriving, Cathy refused to speak a word and Bridget waited for her friend to reveal the source of her discontent. “Are you mad at me?” Bridget asked finally. Cathy pushed her plate away, forearms propped on the table. The smile she cast Bridget’s way was brittle, her gaze just as chilly. “No, why would you think that?” she asked, her tone sickly sweet. The sting made her shrink back. “You haven’t spoken to me since I arrived. I thought you wanted to talk about what has been bothering you, but I’m beginning to think you don’t want to talk at all.” Cathy dropped her arms off the table, shoulders slumping forward. “I know. It’s wrong of me to take out my angst on you. It’s just that I think my boyfriend is cheating on me. I’m not good company tonight.” Bridget’s heart ached for her friend’s misery. Reaching across the distance, she patted her hand. “Are you certain?”
