Hannah returned to her desk, flipping open her email out of habit. There were three new messages but nothing that required any mental space. Damn. A ridiculous intern email was exactly what she needed right now. Hell, she’d even take Dave’s brutal edits on her article. Hannah swiped at her face, found it thankfully dry, and turned her gaze to the fading daylight.
HANNAH STARED DOWN at the bustling streets of Greenwich Village. She still sat at her desk, feet up and a piece of leftover cake in her hands, despite the workday closing. The streets, crowded at nearly any time of day, were filling with streams of nine-to-fivers ending their days and NYU students heading to local bars or the Public Theater. Life in New York City never stopped; it barely even paused. Days like today, she relished the chatter and the reminder that she’d chosen New York City and it had chosen her back. She blinked back a few lingering tears, watching a group of twenty-somethings clamor down the street, laughing and roughhousing. They wore no campus gear, but she saw them three times a week at this time. Sometimes she imagined they were law students fresh out of their torts class, their faith not yet marred by competition. Other times, they were writers just out of a workshop at the Lillian Vernon Writers House. She envied their made-up lives. NYU had been the dream, but a full-ride scholarship far outside New York trumped any hopes she had of her parents footing the larger bill.
Hannah stared at the white carnations from Will—Will, who wanted to marry her. Seriously, he was insane. They hadn’t spoken in years. Not to mention, what did they know about getting married? Hannah hadn’t been in a functional relationship since her post-grad days. She pushed herself back into a seated position, adjusting until her knee didn’t feel like death. Brian was right—she needed to do something about her knee, though she didn’t see how that was possible.
She picked a carnation out of the vase, running her fingers over the petals. She was certain Will had health insurance. He was a lawyer, according to his LinkedIn account—and a good one based on the size of the ring. And he would get something out of being married, too, right? Nothing about his online profiles gave her any clues. It didn’t matter. They weren’t actually getting married. She placed the flower back in its vase, smiling. He had remembered her favorite flower after all those years.
HANNAH ROLLED OVER for the fifth time, pulling the comforter tighter around her. She hated Brian’s bed, with all its lumps and caverns and no Binx to keep her feet warm.
“Seriously, babe,” Brian said, pushing himself up on his elbow, “I love you, but I’m about to kick you out of bed. What’s going on?”
She squeezed her eyes shut and buried her head in her pillow. Too little sleep had Hannah on edge, her brain unable to decompress and let go of all the possibilities. It didn’t help that, aside from a curt “Yes, no thanks to you” when Hannah asked if she was alive, Kate refused to answer her phone. Hannah had been desperate to tell her about the pact. She’d even shown up at Peace Love Yoga with a latte and the latest edition of Talented as penance, but Kate hadn’t been at her normal Friday-evening class. Running to clear her head was completely out of the question. Even on her best days, it was hard. And with the never-ending rain, her knee hurt like hell. And what an idiotic idea spending the night with Brian had been, as if seeing him would have made everything make sense. Instead, she felt like she’d been lying to him all night.
“Kate is ignoring me,” Hannah said. At least it was the truth—or part of the truth.
Brian made a face but didn’t say anything.
“Why the face?”
“No, it’s nothing. Sorry. I didn’t know you and Kate fought... ever.”
Why did that comment not surprise her? “Of course we fight. Have you met Kate?”
“Yeah, but enough to make you toss and turn?”
“It’ll blow over,” Hannah said with a shrug. “She called me to save her from a date, and I didn’t come through.”
“Good.”
“Good?” Hannah asked, curling her knees up as much as her right one would allow.
“Yes, I hate that you and Kate do that. It’s unfair to the guy. You think they don’t know it’s staged? How hard is it to spend a few hours with someone you don’t like?” His expression lightened. “I’m doing it right now.”
“Hardy har har,” she said, slapping at him half-heartedly. She stretched her knee back out with a sigh. After two rainy days in a row and at least one more predicted, her knee was going be locked up for a week.
“Have you thought about more physical therapy?” Brian asked, falling back against his pillow.
“You know I can’t afford—” She stopped, an idea suddenly taking shape. She didn’t need to marry Will for health insurance if she could marry Brian. How hard is it to spend a few hours with someone you don’t like? Hannah had been doing that for months. Brian had been sliding further down the boyfriend-quality chart for a while, but he had his moments. Maybe marriage was exactly what he needed to finally get his shit together.
“What if we got married?” she asked tentatively.
“Did you just propose to me?” he asked, his voice deep with what Hannah could only call fear.
She sat up, keeping the blanket wrapped around herself even though his apartment was always distastefully warm. “Hear me out, Bri.” He didn’t say anything, which, knowing Brian, wasn’t a good thing. She plowed on. “I know we’re not ready to be publicly married, but we can go down to city hall and make it official. No one has to know. Then I can go on your health insurance.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s illegal.”
Hannah shook her head. “It would only be illegal if we pretended to be married.”
“Okay.”
Hannah’s heart raced at the word. Had he just agreed to marry her after everything?
“What do I get out of this arrangement?”
Crap. She reached for his hand, but he held them both securely in his lap, out of reach. She’d miscalculated. He wasn’t fearful; he was insulted. Cold settled into the inches between them, which felt like a chasm. Brian receded to his side of the bed, closing himself off. Frustration, rather than regret, fizzled in her chest.
“So, Hannah? What’s in it for me?” His voice dripped with sarcasm, each word dipped in cruelty. “I mean, besides the opportunity to check the divorced box for the rest of my life.”
“Wow.” She refused to cry. Let him be mean and get it all out. There was no going back from her request. She hadn’t thought that when she’d made it, but the answer was always going to be “yes” or “no.” Either one changed everything irrevocably.
“This idea of yours is no way to start a marriage even if we were close to ready, which we’re not.”
“You’re not ready,” she said, finding herself exhilarated. They didn’t fight like this. Brian usually disappeared or walked away. But this was real. She felt it down to her toes.
“No, I’m not. And more to the point, I don’t want to marry you right now.” Brian was on a roll and, it seemed, had no intention of leaving well enough alone. Hannah tuned him out until his voice reached his tirade’s crescendo. “—between your job and Kate and—” Hannah knew the next word out of his mouth would be the deal-breaker. She’d known it since the first time he came to her apartment. “—Binx.”
“If you didn’t treat him with complete disdain, he might like you better.” Hannah stood and flipped on the light. She reached for her clothes folded on the dresser, changing back into her jeans.
“Binx doesn’t like anyone that’s not you.”
Brian stayed in bed, which only made Hannah angrier. She clasped her bra behind her back underneath her cami, knowing she had the hooks uneven but unwilling to be even partially naked in front of him. She couldn’t look at his calm, complacent face anymore, but it was nearly one in the morning. It was going to be hard enough getting a taxi during peak hours, and she definitely wasn’t taking the subway. She put her T-shirt on over her cami and fumbled with her phone as she slid into her sneakers. The Uber wait time was ten minutes. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do until then, but anything was better than staying there.
“Hannah, it’s the middle of the night. We can talk about all this in the morning.”
