Page 75 of This Changes Everything

Zoë sat on my bed and pressed her hand into my leg.

I continued, “I just feel a bit empty right now. Sometimes it’s easier to miss him than to talk to him and walk away feeling even more empty.” I shook my head and closed my eyes. “I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have left. I shouldn’t have left him. I shouldn’t have left New York. I just . . . I miss him, and I made a mistake.”

“You didn’t make a mistake. You love Ben, but you stopped growing in New York. Listen, Dan Burke is a dirty dick, but right now you’re working on a movie that the entire world will see one day.”

“I’m just an assistant, Zo.” I sulked.

“You didn’t break through in New York. I’m sorry, but it’s the truth. You didn’t make it. And you didn’t in Vancouver, either. And right now, in LA, you’re getting the chance. And I know it’s hard. And I know people suck. And I know you’re just an assistant. But you’ve made it into the room, Ellie. Sure, you’re standing at the back, but you’re in the room. This wasn’t a mistake. Every choice you make is preparing you for when opportunity hits. You’re smart, you’re scrappy, you’re good at the politics, and you have no idea where this job is going to take you. You don’t know who you’re going to meet along the way. You don’t know who is going to read your scripts. You. Don’t. Know.” Zoë slapped my leg and stood up. “As for Ben, have phone sex. Get on FaceTime and shove your vagina right against that screen.”

I laughed and covered my eyes with my arm, still lying on the bed.

The next time Ben and I talked, we were on the phone for only three minutes. The time after that was five minutes. The time after that, three again. We had only been apart for a handful of months, and I could feel him fading into a past version of my life, a version I was saying goodbye to and was slowly losing touch with.

I found myself cycling through a memory of a conversation I had on my twenty-fourth birthday: Sometimes you can’t go back. It’ll never be what it was. And experiencing that with the same people, but without the magic . . . it would break my heart.

Every time I spoke with Ben, the magic slipped and fell between us. It was stuck somewhere between New York and Los Angeles. I could feel myself breaking.

“What are we doing, Ellie?”

I could hear Ben crying softly through the phone. I had driven up to Mulholland Drive to look out at the cityscape below me. It was a city I had dreamed about. It was a city I had had nightmares about. I clutched my lucky golf ball in my hand and held back my tears.

“I just think we need to live the lives we’ve chosen,” I sobbed.

By the time I was in Los Angeles for six months, the magic was gone . . . and so was Ben.

Chapter 29

LAS VEGAS 29 years old

“OH SHIT! RORY’S TEXTING!” KARA WAS HOLDING HER TOWEL against her freshly showered body when my phone lit up on the bedside table in the suite’s primary bedroom.

From the bedroom’s ensuite, I could hear Maddy run to her side. They were picking out their outfits for the evening while Hannah, Zoë, and I were in the bathroom, putting on our makeup.

Kara snatched the phone first and called out “What’s your code?” so she could unlock the screen and read the text.

“Nine-one-seven-eight,” I bellowed back. Hannah, Zoë, and I had all brought our hands down from our faces, and our eyes shifted back and forth between one another, waiting for Kara’s report.

“It says, ‘Hey, Ellie. It’s Rory. Thoughts on Topgolf ? We can grab food there, too.’ ”

Maddy was the first to break the prolonged silence that followed, shouting out, “Dude’s probably a millionaire, and he wants to take you to Topgolf for dinner? Red flags, Ellie. Come to Gwen instead!”

Hannah snorted and brought her mascara brush back up to her eyelashes.

“Topgolf ?” Zoë asked, confused. Hannah and I were sharing the mirror, and Zoë shifted over to the toilet, where she sat to apply her eye shadow. “That feels random. Like, we get it, Rory, you’re a golfer.”

Hannah released her laughter this time.

I shook my head, dismissing their initial reaction. “I think he’s trying to be nice and thoughtful, and maybe nostalgic. I’m not surprised by Topgolf.”

“Where were you the last time you saw Rory?” Zoë asked while combing and perfecting her eyelashes. Hannah kept quiet, but her eyes met mine through the mirror.

“At his dad’s funeral.” I plugged in my curling iron to enhance the waves in my hair, but then remembered I was going golfing and threw on my blue Dodgers hat instead.

“Oh, that’s right,” Zoë mumbled to herself.

“That was a rough couple of days.” I dug into my sister’s makeup bag to find her lipstick.

“Couple of days?” Zoë dropped her eye shadow kit down to her knees. “Why am I not remembering that? His dad’s funeral lasted a couple of days?”