Her first thought is that she should be more upset. Donna sits stiffly in the hard wooden chair, her hands curled around a cup of a Writer's Chai, and instead of anger and hurt and betrayal, she feels almost... relieved. She's not crazy or paranoid. She has not, as Alan suggested, watched too many girl power movies.

Nancy looks uncomfortable, nearly choking on a sip of her coffee. "Should I have told you?"

Donna nods immediately. "Yes," she says, her voice sounding stronger than it has in months. "Yes. Thank you."

They don't know each other very well, Nancy and Donna. Nancy dated Alan's buddy a few months ago, and the foursome spent a few evenings together. The two women were always pretty quiet, as Donna had learned long ago that Alan didn't much appreciate her soliloquies on the socio-political ramifications of NATO and Nancy seemed to be one of those girls who faded into the background around her boyfriend.

Donna isn't sure how or why it ended between Nancy and Patrick, but she hasn't seen Nancy in weeks. Until she showed up at the bank with a tentative greeting and the news that Alan is fucking his "study partner."

Nancy reaches out hesitantly, touches her arm. "Donna?"

Donna nods again, gives Nancy a smile. "It's okay."

"It is?"

"Yeah." Donna mentally assesses her financial situation. It really isn't okay. She's got about $700 in the bank, she hates her job, she owns a crappy Toyota, and Alan never bothered to put her name on the lease. She wonders now if that was intentional instead of accidental. She panics a little at the thought of moving out, because she has nowhere to move to. She swallows nervous laughter at the thought of living in her car, and refuses to consider moving back with her parents, though it may be her best option.

"I'm really sorry, Donna."

"Don't be," Donna insists, her cheeks aching a little from the smile she's wearing. She takes another sip of the tea, bitter now, and cooling. They're near a drafty window, and the wintry air slices right through Donna's ski sweater. Alan likes her to dress this way, like she grew up on the ski slopes and not in a condo, and now she's angry. "It's probably better this way," Donna says, thinking of the clothes she'll donate to the Salvation Army.

"Do you need a place to stay?" Nancy asks, her voice trembling.

Donna wonders what Patrick did to Nancy, what life had done to her to make her so nervous. She reaches across the bistro table and touches Nancy's arm briefly. "You're sweet. Thank you for the offer, but I've got a friend in Madison."

Nancy smiles a little sadly. "I should go."

Donna nods, her thoughts chaotic. She'll make a list, she decides, a list of her options. And as she stands to walk out of the café with Nancy, Donna's not entirely sure that what she's feeling isn't something like exhilaration.