Page 108 of Hotter in the Hamptons

Not just sex in this bed, of course, but also whispered conversations. Making each other laugh until tears leaked from their eyes. Her waking in the night to feel him scooting up against her, warm and solid at her back. The smell of him on the sheets even when he was at work.

All of that was contained in this moment, her on her back, him above her, for what was probably the last time.

It was so,sosad. But there was also something so beautiful about it all. About being able to say goodbye in the same language they’d so often said I love you.

Something so final shouldn’t feel so sweet, but it did. She could feel all the pleasure that had ever transpired between them at once.

Lola felt her orgasm start to build. “Justin,” she cried. “Oh, fuck.”

He bit her neck.

And then, finally, he started going faster and harder. She felt likeshe was going to go blind with how good it felt. She arched her neck back. She felt him start to throb inside her.

When she came, it was less like an explosion and more like the period at the end of a sentence.

***

When Lola woke up, it was dark out, and Justin was gone.

She turned the bedside light on. His closet door was open. Inside, a single velvet hanger swung. Otherwise, it was empty.

She sat up.

Had he taken all his things while she slept?

She made her way into the hallway. His photos were gone from the wall. She went to his office. It was surprisingly cluttered. Upon further inspection, she realized he hadn’t taken anything with him, just moved it all in here.

In the kitchen, there was a note on the island.

I’ll come back and get all my stuff when you’re not here, it read in Justin’s perfect blocky handwriting.Sorry to leave while you’re asleep. Easier this way. Let me know when to come by. I love you.

She sat down on a stool, put her hands in her face, and sobbed.

Not because she regretted anything. She knew this was the right thing for both of them. She cried because she knew it was definitely, absolutely over. Even if they weren’t meant for each other, she was really going to miss him.

She already did.

When she couldn’t cry anymore, she took out her phone.

Might as well just get everything over with.

Can we talk?she texted Aly.

She wanted to hear Aly’s voice while she explained to her why sheso desperately needed to be alone right now. She owed it to her. She owed it to herself too. What happened between them was meaningful. It was maybe one of the most meaningful experiences of Lola’s life. She wanted to end it in a way that honored its importance. If she couldn’t do it in person—couldn’t simply walk over to Aly’s Hamptons house and ring the doorbell—talking on the phone would have to do.

She thought of everything that had transpired between them. The interview, that electric first meeting. The betrayal of the article. The shock of Aly next door. Them fighting all around East Hampton. And then the anger and tension giving way to something new. Lust. Affection. Love. Aly pressing her against the wall. Aly’s hands all over her. Her hands all over Aly. The way touching Aly felt so different from anything she’d ever experienced but also so intuitive, like she was born to do it. Aly’s dark moods settling in like a storm, then lifting, replaced by that wisecracking grin that made Lola swoon. Aly driving, Aly cooking, Aly asleep beside her.

Was she really ready to let it all go?

She was.

Because Aly was amazing. But she wasn’t Lola’s person. And Lola didn’t want to be in another five-year relationship with someone who wasn’t right for her, no matter how good it felt moment to moment. It would be selfish to do that to someone again. Besides, Lola didn’t need another person. She needed herself.

Aly replied:So you’ve made up your mind about us.

Lola groaned. She really wished Aly could be slightly less Aly-like sometimes.I would really like to talk to you, she wrote.This isn’t the kind of thing I want to text about.

Within a few seconds, Aly said,And that’s my answer.

---