EMMA'S POV
“I can’t believe Sebastian turned out to be such a scumbag. Getting a divorce is definitely the right choice!” Abigail said angrily, as she slammed her fist on the gallery’s wooden table.
A muffled thud echoed through the room, and the art supplies scattered across the table rattled. A jar of paintbrushes nearly tipped over, but she didn’t seem to care.
I flinched slightly at the sound, but I didn’t look up. My fingers curled tightly around the cup of water in my hands. I stared down into it, watching the faint ripples from my shaky grip. “I don’t want to talk about him anymore, Abigail,” I said softly, barely above a whisper.
Abigail’s features softened for a second, like she regretted the outburst, but then she nodded firmly. “You’re right,” she said lightly. “No more talking about him! He’s not worth our time.”
She glanced over at me, her lips twitching into a small smirk like she was trying to pull me out of my depression. “How about this, tonight, we go to a bar,
