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“You’re not developing active diabetes,” Evie says in a firmer voice. “And you’re not a coward, so stop acting like one.”
An outraged huff escapes my lips, but Evie isn’t finished.
She continues without missing a beat, “Sam didn’t put a knife to your underbelly. He messed up, but from everything you said, it sounds like his heart was in a good place. No knives—metaphorical or otherwise—were ever drawn. And as long as he’s willing to admit he was wrong and tries to change, I think that’s all that matters. Every relationship has growing pains. It’s part of learning how to build a life together. But the extra effort is so worth it. There’s no better feeling than working through a problem with the person you love, getting to the other side of it, and realizing you’re even closer and more in love than you were before. It’s so empowering and beautiful. Truly.”
Frowning, I turn to Harlow, who sighs and nods.
“She’s right,” Harlow agrees. “You know I’m not touchy-feely, but…she’s right. Bumps in the road can be hard, but when you’re with the right person, the hard parts are worth it. And usually not nearly as bad as you think they’re going to be. The dread is the worst part. Once you face the problem and start working on it, things usually clear up far more easily than you think they will.”
“Especially when your guy is as invested as you are,” Evie says. “And there’s no doubt Sam is invested. You should have seen his face when I let him into the apartment. He was so excited to be doing something nice for you. The joy he took in something he thought would bring you joy was pretty special.” She hands me a fresh tissue. “He’s so in love with you, girl, and I think you feel the same way.”
Pressing my lips into a tight line, I nod, admitting the truth to another human for the first time.
“He feels like home,” I whisper. “And the most exciting adventure I’ve ever had.”
Evie’s eyes light with recognition. “Yep, that’s it. That’s Love with a capital L.”
My head falls back with a groan. “But I’ve ruined it. I was so harsh. I unleashed my full cold, icy, she-demon fury on him. He didn’t eventryto come after me when I left the bar. He just…accepted defeat.”
“I don’t think so,” Evie says.
“I know so,” I counter, returning my chin to its upright position. “He knows I don’t forgive easily. Or ever. He’s probably halfway back to London by now.”
“Or downstairs, pacing back and forth in front of the bodega on the corner,” Evie says in this knowing voice that sends a hopeful tickle through my aching chest. I glance her way, and she nods over her shoulder toward the windows. “I spotted him just before Harlow got home. I was going to run down and see what was up, but then I got distracted.”
“He’s out there?” I ask, my pulse picking up.
“He is,” Evie confirms. “And I bet he’d be breathlessly grateful for an invite to come up and talk this through with you on the roof.” I hesitate, and she adds in a gently wheedling tone, “There’s going to be a beautiful sunset tonight, the kind that inspires people to treasure the beautiful things in life. Might be nice for you two to share it together.”
I gulp, fear and longing swirling inside me like an emotional tornado. My gut says Evie is right, but it’s Harlow who seals the deal, “At the very least you could make him bring you those burnt pretzels you’re craving. End the relationship on a decent note instead of abject sadness.”
“I do want pretzels,” I say, though I know it’s just an excuse. Pretzels I can ask for. A second chance I’m still not sure about. Maybe I won’t be able to forgive him. Maybe he won’t be able to forgive me.
But at least we can share a bag of pretzels and a sunset and hopefully part ways with peace instead of anger.
Reaching for my phone while my courage holds, I text Sam—If you’re still downstairs and want to talk, meet me on the roof in ten minutes. Evie will buzz you up. And bring burnt pretzels, the kind from Pennsylvania in the paper bag. They have them on the third aisle in the bodega, by the good coffee.
Less than a second later, Sam texts back—Will do and see you then. Thank you, Jess. So much.
My thumb hovers over the message, but in the end, I don’t respond. I’m not sure if he should be thanking me for anything yet. Still, his obvious relief sends a wisp of smoky hope floating through my chest.
But is it the beginnings of a flame or the last gasp of a nearly tamped-out campfire?
I don’t know yet, but…it looks like I’m about to find out.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Sam
All the way up the seven flights to the roof, my stomach is a caldron full of acid and my pulse stutters wildly in my throat. I’ve never been this nervous, not even during my initial meeting with my angel investors my junior year of college.
There was never any doubt in my mind that the world needed Best Nest and that I’d find the funding to launch it somewhere. If my first batch of potential investors were too short-sighted to see the potential in my app, I would just keep taking meetings until I found people who were on the same page.
But with Jess…
I’ve fucked this up so completely—not once, but twice. First, by ghosting her when we were kids, then by being a control freak.
But I understand how I screwed up, and I’m determined not to be that person again. I don’t want to be a coward. I want to be the kind of brave, kind, trustworthy friend Jess deserves.
