The Year She Stopped Being Crazy for Him novel Chapter 191

Nancy Gaines had a trace of panic in her eyes. "I'm staying home. I'm not going out."

"Don't worry, I booked a private room. We'll just grab a bite together."

Nancy looked at her and shook her head.

Natalie Thornton linked arms with her, coaxing her playfully. "Come on, go with me. I'll be so bored by myself, and I don't have any other friends around. If you don't go, I don't want to go either."

Leaning against her, Natalie pulled out every trick in the book to whine and plead.

Nancy finally gave in. "Alright, alright, I'll go, you little tyrant."

"I knew you loved me the most." Natalie pulled her up by the hand. "Let's do our makeup and pick out some cute outfits, and then we can head out."

"What's the rush?" Nancy smiled, shaking her head.

"I'm not rushing. It's already four o'clock. By the time we get ready, it'll be dinner time. It's been forever since we did our makeup together."

The two of them stood in front of the mirror, dressed in low-key, simple sweatshirts—one entirely black, the other gray—both sporting bright, natural makeup.

Natalie adjusted her low ponytail. Her long chestnut hair had a slight wave at the ends. She smiled at their reflection. "We look like a couple of college besties walking arm in arm around campus."

Nancy stared at the mirror, her expression growing distant. "I wish that were true."

Just normal college girls, walking to and from class together, grabbing food, doing homework.

Noticing the sudden dip in her mood, Natalie wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Come on, let's go."

She grabbed a face mask from the entryway cabinet and handed it to Nancy.

Nancy also pulled down the brim of a dark blue baseball cap, feeling intensely insecure.

Natalie drove out of the underground garage and put the restaurant's address into the GPS.

Her phone rang. She frowned as she glanced at the screen, seeing that it was Faust Carlson calling her personally.

In the four years she had been married to Hassan, she could count the number of times Faust had called her on one hand.

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