“What we are,” she said, turning toward me. “Don’t go around trying to pretend you're different from me.” “IT am,” I said. “And you know that I am.” “Bullshit.” “I can love a man, Celia. I can go marry any man I want and have children and be happy. And we both know that wouldn’t come easily for ” you. Celia looked at me, her eyes narrow, her lips pursed. “You think you're better than me? Is that what’s going on? You think I’m sick, and you think you’re just playing some kind of game?” I grabbed her, immediately wanting to take back what I’d said. That wasn’t what I meant at all. But she flung her arm away from me and said, “Don’t you ever touch me again.” I let go of her. “If they find out about us, Celia, they'll forgive me. I'll marry another guy like Don, and they'll forget I even knew you. I can survive this. But I’m not sure that you can. Because you’d have to either fall in love with a man or marry one you didn’t love. And I don’t think you're capable of either option. I’m worried for you, Celia. More than I’m worried for me. I’m not sure your career would ever recover—if your life would recover—if I didn’t do something. So I did the only thing I knew. And it worked.” “It didn’t work, Evelyn. You’re pregnant.” “T will take care of it.” Celia looked down at the floor and laughed at me. “You certainly know how to handle almost any situation, don’t you?” “Yes,” I said, unsure why I was supposed to be insulted by that. “I do.” “And yet when it comes to being a human, you seem to have absolutely no idea where to start.” “You don’t mean that.” “You are a whore, Evelyn. You let men screw you for fame. And that is why I’m leaving you.” She opened the door to leave, not even looking back at me. I watched her walk out to my front stoop, down the stairs, and over to her car. I