She shrugs, picks her bao bun back up, and takes a huge bite. Mouth full, she says, “But if you’re not sticking around, and you don’t want anything serious, then I really don’t see what the issue with Miles is.”
“The issue is,” I begin, “he said it shouldn’t happen again.”
“Huh,” she says.
“Huh, what?” I say, instantly panicking a little.
“Nothing,” she assures me. “That just surprises me. Last night there was a vibe.”
“I think Miles could be alone in a room with a paper bag and there’d still be a vibe,” I say, though, honestly, I’m relieved someone else picked up on it too. That it wasn’t just wishful thinking.
I shake it off. Vibe or not, the bottom line remains unchanged. I’m not going to have a one-night stand with my roommate.
“Can I ask . . .” I trail off, trying to decide how to phrase it. “Is it too soon for me to ask what happened? Between you and Duke?”
“Well, since you just told me about your clandestine roommate hookup,” she says, taking a huge bite of bao bun, “I think we’ve officially graduated from work friends to real friends.”
My heart pinches at the thought. I wish I’d made more of an effort to get to know her sooner. Even before the breakup, it would’ve been nice to have a friend like Ashleigh.
“Duke was my high school boyfriend,” she says, then pauses to chew for a second. “We broke up when we went to college. Then we both ended up back here. Eventually, we ran into each other at the YMCA, then met up at his car in the parking lot, as I mentioned.”
“Got it.”
“So nine months later, Mulder is born,” she says. “And Duke was great during the pregnancy. We weren’t really together, but he was present. And afterward, I think we were just like . . . drunk on our perfect newborn baby, so when he told me he wanted to marry me, I was like, Hell yeah, let’s do it! We’re already a family, you know?
“And for, like, five years, things were good. Then Mulder started kindergarten, and I went full-time at the library. Mulder started taking karate, and gymnastics, and Duke joined a rec hockey team, and . . .” She shrugs. “I don’t know. We still worked okay. But our whole relationship revolved around our kid. Even the other couples we hung out with all had kids Mulder’s age. That’s how we chose our friends. It’s how we chose what shows we watched. It was all we talked about. And once our son got busier, the relationship just . . . stopped feeling like enough for me.
“So we tried doing date nights, and that helped. Just having dedicated time for the two of us. But something was still off. It felt like . . . like we’d reached our final form. Like, I’d ask him to take a cooking class, and he’d say, We don’t like cooking, or I’d be like, What if we moved to Portugal, and he’d be like, We don’t have jobs in Portugal.”
“I mean . . . I hesitate to say this, but those seem like reasonable responses.”
“Oh, totally,” she agrees. “But the conversation just ended there, every time. There wasn’t a What if we visit Portugal in the summer. There wasn’t even a Why do you suddenly want to move to Portugal?”
“Why did you?” I ask.
“I didn’t,” she says, like this should be obvious. “I just wanted to feel less . . . settled.”
I snort. “We should’ve traded lives.”
Ashleigh shakes her head. “There’s steadiness and dependability, and those are great. But settling? Just deciding you already know everything you like and dislike on the entire planet, everything you’re good at, every friend you’re going to make, and every food you’re ever going to eat? The guy wouldn’t even let me repaint our bedroom! I wanted to know new parts of him, and I wanted to find new parts of myself. So I asked him to go to couples’ counseling.”
“And it didn’t work?” I say.
She smiles, but somehow it’s the first flash of sadness I’ve seen on her. “For me it did. But he wouldn’t go. He was willing to be good to me, but he wasn’t willing to be any better. I stuck it out as long as I could. Then one day I woke up, and I couldn’t anymore. So I told him. And a part of me expected him to finally get it. To say he’d do therapy, try. But he didn’t.”
“Shit,” I say. “I’m so sorry, Ashleigh.”
She gives a blasé shrug. “Sometimes it’s terrible, but this was my choice. I think a lot of my friends thought I was a selfish idiot, giving up a pretty good thing just for the hope of a really good thing. But how can I teach my kid not to settle if I’m not willing to fight for the life I want? I tried so hard to love the one I had, and if Duke had tried too, I would’ve held on. But he’s just one of those guys who doesn’t believe in sharing his ‘business’ with a stranger, so therapy’s out.
“He didn’t even want me talking to our friends about it all, so when we separated, it seemed like it was out of nowhere. Everyone took his side, and honestly, even the ones who didn’t still stopped inviting me to things. It’s awkward to have one single person in a room full of couples, I guess.”
A weight sinks through me.
I think about my last conversation with Sadie: You both matter to us so much. It had hurt, to be lumped in with him. But what hurt worse was, I didn’t believe it.
If we both meant so much to her and Cooper, wouldn’t she have called me at some point in the last two and a half months? She didn’t want me anymore, not on my own.
“God.” Ashleigh shakes her head. “Maybe that’s why I’m so starved for gossip. I never felt like I could tell anyone what was going on with us. Damn, I think I’ve had a breakthrough, Vincent.”
“Not to mention, you know my whole last name now,” I say.
“See?” She takes another bite. “Official friends.”
16
TUESDAY, JUNE 25TH
53 DAYS UNTIL I CAN LEAVE
Miles is on his way out the door when I get home, a piece of toast clamped in his mouth and his keys, phone, and water bottle clutched in one hand.
“Running late?” I guess, holding the door open so he can slip out.
He nods, plucks the toast from between his lips. “Had to give Julia a ride. To a date.”
“She’s been here, like, three days,” I marvel.
“I know. Guess she met him at BARn.”
A few seconds tick by in which neither of us seems to have anything at all to say. It’s the first time we’ve been alone in the apartment together since Julia showed up.
I break first: “Anyway! I’ll let you go.”
“Right. See you later.” He turns to go but almost immediately does an about-face. “I forgot to mention, I can’t do this Sunday.”
“Oh.” I try not to look crestfallen. I try not to be crestfallen. It’s honestly probably for the best if we spend a little less time together. “No worries.”
“The thing is,” he begins.
“Miles, really, it’s fine,” I promise.
“No, I know, it’s just . . .” He pauses. “I’m committed to this thing Saturday night.”
I nod eagerly, like I’m not only personally invested in but also thrilled by his having plans.
“But I have two tickets,” he says. “So I was thinking maybe you’d want to go with me?”
