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“What?”

“You know, when you were a kid and you’d fall asleep in the car and your dad would carry you to bed and you wouldn’t remember it? You’d just have a foggy memory of floating through space. And then you’d wake up in bed the next morning not remembering how you got there, but sort of remembering it at the same time?”

She narrowed her eyes like she was thinking. “Yeah. Only it was never my dad. It was the nanny. But yeah.”

I sniffed. “My dad was gone by the time I was eight. I never teleported again after that. There wasn’t anyone strong enough to carry me.” I paused for a long moment. “Men have only ever left me, Ali,” I said quietly.

She waited, silent.

“You never realize you’re living the best time of your life,” I said softly. “It happens and then it ends, and you only see it for what it was after. I gave Nick the part of me I don’t give anyone. I gave him the kind of stupid, innocent love that you can only give before you know better. He got the best of me. And I’ll never find that me again.”

“Yes, you will—”

I shook my head. “No. I won’t. Because I’ll never be that trusting again. I’ll never give myself to someone else with the complete abandon that I did with Nick. I don’t have it in me. He was the exception. He was me saying ‘Okay, so Dad left. But this one won’t. I picked right, not all men are like Dad. This one’s going to carry me. All my broken pieces.’” I paused. “And he didn’t. He did exactly what Mom always warned me that men do. He validated every cautionary tale I grew up hearing. Always have a separate bank account. Make sure your name is on the house. Trust but verify.” I shook my head again. “I didn’t listen,” I whispered. “And now I’ll never teleport again.”

She looked at me, her eyes sad. “This isn’t your life, Bri. This is just a shitty chapter in your story. You know, I didn’t think I’d ever date again after Neil, but then I found Daniel. There are good men out there, you’ll find someone too.”

I scoffed dryly. “That ship has sailed. I am no longer a reliable source of judgment when it comes to picking men.” I wiped under my eyes and took in a deep breath.

“Speaking of husbands,” I said, changing the subject. “I can’t believe you actually left yours home alone.”

“The sex is better when I’m gone for a bit.”

“Oh, so now I get why you came to see me. This is foreplay.”

She laughed.

I sighed. “I wish marriage came with an app that makes it so your husband’s penis only works for one user. Like a phone that only you can unlock? I would have given it to you as a wedding gift.”

“I don’t think I have to worry about that with Daniel.”

I nodded. “You’re probably right. He’ll make a good teleporter one day—but just keep a separate bank account. Trust me on this one.”

She smiled. Then she gave me a playful eyebrow. “You know, Doug is still single.”

I gagged and she cracked up. Her husband’s crusty best friend had followed me around with a guitar at their wedding.

“I’m not that desperate,” I said. “Yet.”

We were giggling at this when the screaming started.

Benny.

Alexis and I looked at each other for a split second before we bolted.

Everything moved in slow motion after that.

Down the hallway, around the corner, into the living room—I was braced for something awful. A disconnected tube, blood everywhere. But when I got in the room, he was right where we left him, still hooked up to the machine.

He was crying, hysterical.

Alexis and I both darted to his side, going into ER mode, frantically checking wires and screens on the dialysis machine while he screamed.

“What’s wrong?” I said, touching dials. “Benny!”

He was so worked up he couldn’t even form words.

Alexis shook her head. “This looks fine. It’s not the machine.”