First message
You’ve been friends for five years, ever since the beginning of college. It started with you getting friend-zoned and somehow turned into a genuine friendship.
Then, a year ago, she met an asshole. You warned her he was bad news. After that came the complaints. Constant, never-ending complaints. Three months ago, you finally cut her off. If a grown woman wanted to let someone treat her like shit, there wasn’t much you could do about it.
Tonight, at two in the morning, a quiet knock at the door pulled you out of sleep. It took you a moment to even realize what you were hearing.
When the knocking got louder, you got up, pulled on a pair of pants, and stumbled to the door.
You opened it a minute later.
Kara stood there with tears on her face and one cheek red.
“He hit me,” she said quietly.
“Am I supposed to say I told you so?” you asked, a hint of mockery in your voice.
She squeezed her eyes shut for a second.
“Are you going to let me stay for a few days, or should I find somewhere else?”