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“Then why won’t he tell me?”

“That,” she says, “is the question you should probably be asking instead of deciding he’s regretting getting back with you. Maybe it’s work. Or—fuck—maybe it’s that he talked to your dad about proposing and he’s just nervous.”

I swallow a bite of sandwich. It tastes like nothing and is hard to get down around the lump in my throat. “I tried asking him to talk to me.”

“And what did he say?”

“That he’s got a lot on his mind, and everything’s fine.”

“Well, there you go. He’s just got a lot on his mind.”

I glare at her. “Very insightful, thank you.”

“I charge by the hour.”

My phone lights up on the table between us. For half a second my heart jumps, thinking it’s him. It’s a reminder from Theo’s school about fall break. I flip it face-down.

“Maybe you can get him to open up more during the break,” Jamie says. “Are you guys doing anything?”

“Thanksgiving at my parents’ house. And then Simon’s mom is stopping by Sunday for lunch to give Theo a birthday present, since she couldn’t make it to the party.”

Jamie smiles. “That’ll be fun. And it’s a good sign that he’s still making family plans. He’s still invested.”

She’s not entirely wrong. Simon hasn’t canceled on Thanksgiving. He hasn’t stopped talking about Christmas. Yesterday morning he reminded me we need to order the new dining table soon if we want it before the holidays.

He still gets Theo ready in the morning. Still brings me coffee. Still texts me to ask whether I need anything on his way home. Still reaches for my hand in the car.

It’s all the little things that tell me he’s still here. But then I’ll catch him staring at me with this awful, distant expression, and it feels like he’s somewhere a thousand miles away.

“Have you told him that you’re feeling like this?” Jamie’s voice is muffled around a mouthful of grapes.

My eyes snap up. “What am I supposed to say? Hey, Simon, you’ve been acting weird for seventy-two hours, so I’ve decided you don’t love me anymore?”

“Tell him what you just told me. That his change in behavior is making you nervous. He’s a great guy. I’m sure he’s already noticed you spiraling anyway.”

“Then why hasn’t he done anything about it?” I snap. “It’s the same shit as before. He was a great boyfriend, but when things started getting real and the future started being around the corner, he couldn’t handle the pressure and bailed.”

Jamie’s face falls. “Blaire. I’m sure that’s not what’s happening. He loves you. He wants you.”

“He’s always wanted me. He’s always loved me. It wasn’t enough before, and he’s realizing it’s not enough now.”

I spent years learning how to exist without Simon. Learning how to raise Theo without expecting him beside me every morning. Learning how to shove everything I still felt for him into some locked compartment and build a life around it. Then I let him back in. I hung my clothes in his closet. I let myself believe the extra rooms meant something.

I don’t know how I’m supposed to survive it again if he tells me he made a mistake.

Jamie reaches across the desk and puts her hand over my wrist. “Talk to him tonight. If you sit on this until Thanksgiving, you’re going to pick a fight in your mom’s kitchen in front of your entire family, and I will not drive over to referee that.”

I huff, wet at the edges. “You’re a terrible friend.”

“I’m an excellent friend. Eat your sandwich.”

I take another bite but it still tastes like nothing.

The bell for fifth period is going to ring in eight minutes. I have a stack of quizzes to hand back and a unit I’m still behind on and a four-year-old who will want to tell me about his problems the second I walk in the door.

And a man at home who brings me coffee with one hand and holds his phone like it’s a live grenade with the other.

“Tonight,” Jamie says, already packing up. “Before you end things over what I’m sure is just a miscommunication.”