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Of course, thinking about what lay ahead of her also reminded her of what was now in the past: spending every waking hour with her friends. With Jonathan.

He had accepted a job in New York. When he’d told her last week, Phoebe had made sure to respond only with enthusiasm. She was proud of him, and she knew he was excited about the job, about the idea of living in the big city. So the betrayal that she felt—the way the news felt like a gut punch—she hid, expertly. She buried it so deep that she almost forgot it was there.

They would stay in touch, and, on the bright side, she would be able to visit him in New York. The thought of the adventures they could have there made her feel better about the situation. About the idea of him being all the way across the country.

She was in the kitchen, packing up her mugs and tossing expired food from the pantry, when there was a knock on the door.

It was Jonathan. Holding an enormous bouquet of pale pink tulips. Phoebe smiled like a kid on Christmas morning.

“Come in! What are those?”

She expected him to answer her silly question with an equally silly answer, but he cleared this throat and said seriously, “They’re flowers. For you.”

He handed them to her. Phoebe clutched the heavy bouquet to her chest.

“Thank you,” she breathed. “Weren’t you hanging out with your family today?”

“They’re out to lunch. I told them I had something I needed to do.”

“What, bring flowers to the best, most amazing friend in the world?”

Jonathan said nothing. He looked at her with his big, liquid brown eyes. She noticed that he was wearing his nice jeans and a checkered button-down shirt. Probably dressed up for his family, she told herself.

“Phoebe. I want to”—he cleared his throat—“I want to give us a real shot.”

Now it was Phoebe’s turn to say nothing. She tilted her head, confused.

“I want—if you didn’t already know, I want you to know that I think of you as more than a friend.”

Phoebe felt behind her for a chair and sat down, the bouquet in her arms. She felt like she couldn’t breathe.

Jonathan took her silence as a cue to continue. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I mean, we have a connection that’s not—normal. It’s special. You feel it, too, right?”

Phoebe exhaled. “Of course. I felt it the first night we met.”

Jonathan’s face relaxed into a warm smile. “Okay, then. Should we try…” He laughed nervously and ran a hand through his hair. “I mean, would you like to go out with me? I mean, maybe we should try one date first and see how it feels before we—”

He was getting carried away. Phoebe felt a strange edge of panic.

“Jonathan.” She said it quietly, but he stopped. Something in her face must have told him that he needed to sit down, because he collapsed into the chair across the table from her.

“I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“What?” The color drained from his face. Phoebe thought she must look equally shell-shocked.

“How would this possibly work?”

Jonathan stammered. “It—well, we—”

“You’re moving to New York.”

“I know.”

“I don’t want to be in a long-distance relationship right when…” Phoebe wasn’t sure what she was going to say. Something along the lines of Right when I become a grown-up or Right when I have the entire world ahead of me. She didn’t want to add insult to injury by saying this out loud, but she also felt certain that her future would be full of romantic adventures. She hadn’t exactly had a rich dating life in college, and she’d grown bored with college boys. She loved Jonathan, but she didn’t want to be tied down to anyone right now. A small part of her wished that he had attempted something like this a year ago, or even two years ago, right when they’d first met. To think of all the fun they could have had…

But they had had fun. As friends. And the thought of potentially ruining their unique friendship by introducing a romantic element into it made Phoebe recoil. As much as she loved being near him, touching him, she didn’t want to risk what they had.

“Then come with me.”