Carrie frowned, leaning closer to inspect her face in the mirror.
Surely tonight was the worst night possible to be going out with friends. She looked like she hadn’t slept in days. Her hair was a mess, and she could spot the beginnings of what were sure to become wrinkles.
However, they had insisted and she knew that if she resisted they would come right over and drag her out. If she was still in her pyjamas, they would take her out that way. No shame.⠀⠀⠀⠀
Yet she owed them so much.
They had been her lifeline and support over the last few months. She had turned to them when Grant came home drunkenly night after night, collapsing into bed, reeking of whatever brand of cheap liquor he had consumed.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
They had been the ones to notice the bruises acquired when Grant woke to discover that he was at home, and not at a bar. They had been the ones who sit with her as she sobbed, broken.
They came to her aid repeatedly, regardless of their own commitments, their own lives, their own families.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
They stood by her when she finally decided to leave him, through his pleas and tears, through his rage and threats, through her indecision and sorrow and through her fear and anxieties.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
They knew that she could do it when she didn’t know that she could.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
So today was just as much for them as it was for her.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
Carrie made a face at her reflection and reached for her favourite red lipstick. Red would be a good colour for tonight.