“He pushed you away because he thought it might save you from hurting. But he’d want you to be happy.” We were both self-sacrificial in that way. A tear falls down her cheek, and I swallow the lump that seems to be stuck in the center of my throat. “I know I’m not Mason, but I’m here if you ever want to talk or get together or, you know, cry.”
She’s quiet for a long time and stares at the orange dice that Mason loved so much. She turns the clear canister in her hand, looking as though she’s lost in a memory. “We still meet,” she finally says. “The group, I mean. It’s only once a month, and we barely even play. It’s usually more of a catch-up. You should join us sometime.”
The invitation catches me off guard. As does the urge to take her up on it. I can almost feel Mason urging me to accept. “I’d like that. Maybe I’ll try my hand at being a dungeon master. I have all Mason’s campaign notes.”
“Now, that I’d love to see,” she says through a small smile. “Thank you. For calling me. For talking to me about Mason. It means a lot.”
“It means a lot to me, too,” I tell her.
By the time Jules gets back from the bathroom, my tears are gone, and the heavy weight of guilt has eased. I’m also certain that Mason would be both mortified and thrilled, respectively, to know that I not only plan to keep my word and attempt to take over his role as DM but that I absolutely plan to keep Sarah in my life for as long as she can tolerate me.
It’s the second weekend in November, and the air has turned crisp. Most of the leaves have fallen, leaving the trees bare and the city rather colorless. But I can’t really complain. Not when Jules is sitting across from me cradling a warm cup of coffee, and a sharp gust of wind messes up her hair. She looks equal parts adorable and miserable.
Weekend brunch at Dan’s Diner has become our new thing. With my new job and her recent promotion, I don’t get to see her as often asI’d like. So when she suggested we meet at Dan’s once a week to catch up, I instantly agreed. The best part is, Ripley, my new Lab-border collie rescue, can come too since the place has outdoor seating.
Although, if the temperature keeps dropping, I’m not sure Jules will want to sit outside for much longer. Not even for the cutest dog in the world. I reach under the table to scratch his ears in a preemptive apology.
“How’s the great house hunt?” Jules pushes aside what’s left of her omelet, and I snag it to feed to Ripley.
That’s what we’ve been calling my quest for a house. Mainly because from the second I finally agreed to take Mason’s house money—after my mom told me if I didn’t, she would donate it all to some evangelical church just to spite me—I’ve been spending most of my free time pursuing real estate websites and bombarding Simone’s girlfriend, Mia, with links.
It’s not that my apartment isn’t nice; in fact, it’s the nicest apartment I’ve ever lived in. But I always knew I wouldn’t be there long. That it was just a touchdown station before finding something more permanent.
“Mia found a few listings. We’re going to check them out some time this week. You wanna come with?”
Her eyes grow wide. “You’re asking, do I want to go walk around available houses and mentally redecorate them in my style? Yes. Please.”
“Okay, cool.” I give Ripley one more scratch and sit back with a sigh. “Even if it costs a fortune to break my lease, I really don’t want to spend a year searching for a place. It’s too stressful.”
“What are you looking for specifically?” She puts her chin in her hand and watches me with a soft expression.
It makes me want to lean over the table and kiss her.
Except we’re not there yet. And that’s okay.
“One with a backyard for Ripley. At least two bedrooms, three would be better, a garage, sidewalks—”
“Gotta have sidewalks and a backyard for the bestest boy,” she agrees.
“And to be able to purchase it with my four-month employment history.”
“Is that going to be a problem?”
“Mia doesn’t think so. The lender she works with said my previous work history seemed solid. I’ve never missed my rent. And thanks to Mason, I have a sizable downpayment, so that helps.”
“Money talks.”
“She wants me to get her a list of needs and wants by the end of this weekend so she can put together some web portal of available listings for me to look through.”
Jules nods and pulls her jacket a little tighter.
I manage to catch the eye of our server from the window and I gesture for the check. “What about you?” I try to keep my tone neutral, as if I’m not desperate to know so I can add them to my own list. “What are some things you’d look for?”
She waves aside my question and finishes the last of her coffee. “Oh, it’ll be decades before I can afford a house.”
I mimic her previous position and put my chin in my hand and smile. “Humor me.”
She takes a moment to think about it. “A kitchen that looks into the main room so I can watch TV while cooking, a fun place for a huge Christmas tree.”
