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Everything Bianca seemed to do was a little bit perfect.
for gushy, dramatic love stories, but when the two of them were around, the romance was almost palpable.
If she didn’t compartmentalize, she’d never make it through the day.
when Maeve smiled at her, the dimple appearing prominently, easily, Bianca stupidly hoped that their friendship had something to do with that.
Yeah, she wanted that. And even if she didn’t have it yet, she was still so goddamn happy when other people found it.
At least she hadn’t been lying about him not being available, which, she’d realized on her way home with the tree, she would have done
It was hard to believe that a person like Bianca existed.
reinforcing a point that shouldn’t even need to be reinforced, it proved just how firmly in the camp of “friends and nothing else” their relationship was. And it needed to stay there.
Because really, they were just friends. Who hung out. And had started having deep conversations about complicated emotions. And maybe Bianca looked forward to seeing her. A lot. And texting with her all morning had made the day breeze by and given her a renewed sense of excitement for all the mundane things in her day-to-day, as she was curious to see what Maeve thought about them. Like friends did.
Maybe it made her a bad friend, but she had no interest in discussing Bianca’s date when they hung out on Monday.
Someone like Bianca Rossi deserved the world—or at least far more of it than Maeve could give her.