Chapter Text
Whitney sits at the kitchen counter, planning the girls’ trip to kick off the new season. Thinking about their last few trips, a knot forms in her stomach. Meredith had crashed out on a commercial flight. Lisa had a meltdown over practically everything. Angie is so prone to accidents she might as well need a bubble to keep her safe. And Bronwyn had thrown Uni the unicorn into the ocean.
Bronwyn.
The news about her and Todd separating had just made the Page Six headlines. Whitney hated that she’d learned about it the same way everyone else did. They hadn’t talked since before the news broke; life had simply gotten in the way.
Whitney picks up her phone and calls.
“Whitney, hi!” Bronwyn answers.
“Hey. How are you holding up?” Whitney asks softly.
“Ugh,” Bronwyn replies, tired but calm.
“I’m sorry,” Whitney says quietly. “Are you ready for the girls’ trip?”
Bronwyn laughs, dry. “It couldn’t come faster. Todd is driving me insane. I swear, I have maybe three conversations left in me before I lose it. I ask him to talk to me, he refuses. I ask him to leave, also refuses.”
Whitney exhales. “Okay. Then fuck it. Pack your things. We’re going early.”
“What? Whit — are you insane?” Bronwyn laughs. “We can’t just go early.”
“Who’s stopping us? We’re done filming until the trip,” Whitney argues.
Bronwyn thinks for a second. “Alright. I’m in.”
The weight of weeks of stress lifts slightly. Both women smile into their phones, a tiny rebellion against the chaos surrounding them.
The drive up is early and serene. Soft music hums through the car as mountains and frost-covered trees roll past. At some point, Bronwyn grows quiet.
“What’s on your mind?” Whitney asks, reaching over to graze Bronwyn’s hand.
Bronwyn exhales. “Remember when we talked about open marriages? About how I said I’d be fine with it, as long as we actually talked about it?”
Whitney nods. “Yeah. What happened?”
Bronwyn stares out the window instead of looking at her. “Well, he didn’t want that. Turns out, exploring other options is only acceptable when he does it.”
“What — like he can act however he pleases while you’re stuck on that ugly couch?”
“Whitney! Excuse me?” Bronwyn feigns outrage. “My ugly couch?”
They laugh, the tension easing as the miles pass, until they finally arrive.
The lodge is stunning, cozy but modern. Dark wooden beams, stone floors, and floor-to-ceiling windows frame the mountains like a painting. Bronwyn drops onto the sofa, eyes fluttering shut, while Whitney tucks their luggage into a corner by the door.
“Nu-uh. What do you think you’re doing?” Whitney crosses her arms, one eyebrow lifting.
“What?” Bronwyn cracks an eye open. “We’re on a trip. I’m relaxing.”
“We’re hitting the slopes immediately,” Whitney says. “By the end of the day, I want you thinking about how sore your legs are... not Todd.”
Bronwyn groans but gets up, catching the suggestive edge to the comment as she follows her toward the door.