The Last Exhale Read Free Page B

is memorable. Take out the pins in my hair, fluff sandy-brown curls to perfection. As I grab my keys, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Despite the few pounds recently added to the scale, I must say, I’m looking good, and actually feeling even better. Feel almost like a single woman on the prowl. The sparkle on my left hand reminds me that I’m not. I blow my reflection a matte-red kiss anyway.
    I’m meeting my girls at a lounge not too far from the house. It’s Katrina’s birthday. She’s single and ready to mingle. Rachel’s happily married and not ashamed to let the world know it. I’m stuck somewhere in between.
    Eric pulled an extra shift for the night, so I thought it was the perfect opportunity to leave the kids with their grandmother. EJ and Kennedy will be just what she needs to keep loneliness from her pillow, while getting a break from all of them will hopefully keep regret from mine.
    Surprisingly, there are quite a few people in the lounge. Unlike in my early years when no one came out until close to midnight. For it to be a few minutes to ten, I’m very pleased. These are thehours grown folks party, those of us with kids and real responsibilities.
    Katrina sashays in shortly after ten. I wave her over to the bar where I’ve been standing long enough for me to no longer feel my toes.
    â€œI was beginning to think I was getting stood up tonight,” I say after we part from a hug.
    â€œForgot you’re on borrowed time.” She chuckles, but quickly stops when she sees the straight look on my face. “Rachel here yet?”
    I shake my head. “Thought you two were riding together.”
    â€œWe were, but she called thirty minutes ago to tell me she’d just meet me here. Said something about the zipper in her dress getting stuck and Michael helping her with it.”
    I look at Katrina and she looks at me. We burst into naughty giggles. “She’s not coming,” we agree in unison.
    â€œIf I play my cards right, I may be getting a little action tonight myself.” She clinks her glass with mine. “Best way to celebrate this celebration.”
    A twinge of jealousy clogs my throat. I flush it down with pineapple-flavored tequila. I’m slightly jealous of both of my friends. One has the freedom to come and go as she pleases and the other doesn’t want to come and go because she has a man she’s madly in love with at home. I’d never let them know it, though.
    I survey the room. Ask Katrina, “Anyone catch your eye yet?”
    She shakes her head. “But I definitely see some eyes on you.”
    Two men sitting a few tables behind the bar raise their glasses in our direction. One of the men winks my way. I blush, but make sure I lift my glass with my left hand. Gold and platinum flash from their left hands. I quickly turn to Katrina. “Girl, they’re married.”
    â€œA little flirting never hurt a soul,” she says.
    â€œI’m sure that’s what someone was telling the woman who stole your husband.”
    My friend’s eyes glaze over with hatred. The space between us grows hot. Feels like I’m standing face to face with the younger, fire-starting Drew Barrymore.
    I grab her hand. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”
    She waves the bartender over, orders a shot of something clear. Downs it before he can sit it on the counter. “A girl only turns twenty-five once in her life. I’m not going to let you ruin my celebration.” Then saunters off in the direction of salivating men.
    Katrina hasn’t seen her twenties in a decade. Every year, she celebrates the same age because she said that was the best year of her life. It was the year before she got pregnant and three years before her baby’s father finally put a ring on her finger. Not a year into their marriage, she caught him in bed with their neighbor.
    If twenty-five was the best year of her