I opened the door and headed inside. Ivy was already sitting at one of the small tables near the window, a steaming glass of black tea resting between her hands. She was focused on her phone, thumb lazily scrolling across the screen, so distracted that she didn't notice me walking in at first. Still, she looked much better than the last time I saw her. Her eyes weren't swollen anymore, her makeup wasn't smeared, and she no longer looked like she was about to collapse from exhaustion and alcohol.
Seeing her break down in my car that night still lingered in my head, though. She'd cried so hard that her whole body shook, and for a moment I genuinely didn't know what to do other than hold her. Chase really did a number on her. I just hoped she'd eventually crawl out of that hole instead of drowning herself deeper inside it.
I walked up to the table and sat across from her.
