Page 96 of What Happens in Amsterdam

“If he wants to see me again.”

Maya snorts at this. “The moment I saw you two together, I knew he was down bad. That doesn’t go away overnight. I was silently pining for Phoebe for ayear—”

“Eleven months!”

“—before I got the courage to tell her,” Maya finishes. They met through mutual friends, in a book club Phoebe started and Maya kept going to, not because she liked the books Phoebe selected but because she likedher.Only once they were together did she finally admit she wasn’t a huge reader, and Phoebe made it her mission to find something she’d love. Turned out, that thing was audiobooks, and now they often listen together while driving or cooking dinner.

“I like him so much,” I say in a small voice after polishing off my hazelnut cone. “But I’m not sure that’s enough for him. Obviously, it didn’t end well the first time, and I don’t know what it looks like, being in a relationship with him as adults.”

Phoebe tosses her napkin in a trash can with a little too much force. “Bullshit.”

“Excuse me?”

“You think anyone automatically knows how to be in a healthy relationship? No. You fucking practice. You communicate. You figure out the hard shit together,” she says. “Some of those guys youdated in LA? They were really into you, Dani! They wanted to take you to brunch and meet your parents and go on weekend trips with you. But you ended it because you decided you didn’t do relationships.Couldn’tdo relationships. And you know what? It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy. You tell yourself enough times that you don’t do something—eventually you can’t.

“You think we’re not afraid of bringing a kid into the world? An entire human with a whole set of needs and wants?” Phoebe shakes her head. “Just last week, I learned that newborns don’t have kneecaps. Kneecaps!”

“Not until around six months,” Maya confirms.

“Just because it’s scary doesn’t mean it’s the wrong thing. Just because it’s hard—doesn’t mean it’s not worth doing.”

When my sister finishes speaking, she’s a little out of breath, her cheeks pink, to the point where Maya has to give her a pat on the back.

Maybe it’s not the reassurance I wanted but the tough love I needed. The older-sister wisdom.

“I—wow.”

Phoebe calmly clears her throat. “I can’t tell if you want to slap me or hug me.”

“Both at the same time?” I say, and she laughs.

“It’s okay to let yourself want this.” She places her hands on my shoulders, looks me straight in the eyes. “I promise you.”

That permission slowly works itself through my bloodstream. Rearranges my molecules. I didn’t need it from her, but maybe I needed it fromme. If I allow myself to truly want this, to peel back the layers ofI don’t doandI’m not ready, then maybe what I’m afraid of most is that all my uncertainty will have pushed him away.

Now I’m picturing it, the two of us living in that apartment I’ve come to think of as my home, too. Staying up too late and not even regretting it when we need to wake up early. Taking George onlong walks. Making fun of Wouter’s complicated tea process when I’ve loved it from the very beginning.

I want all of it.

It was wrong to expect Amsterdam to change me, as though I could sit back and let it happen when I had to be the one making the first move. I am not the girl I was when I landed here, and it’s a relief to realize that the process doesn’t have to be over.

I can change. I can find myself a thousand different times, and I’m not done yet.

“Amsterdam looks good on you,” Phoebe says at the end of the day, giving me a tight, linen-scented hug. “I love you and miss you to pieces—but I really hope you decide to stay.”

After I drop them off at their hotel, a family of tourists flags me down.

“Do you know how to get to the Albert Cuyp Markt?”

And I can’t help grinning as this time, I point them in the right direction.

Twenty-six

When your entire world implodesaround you, sometimes the only option is to figure out where everything went so disastrously wrong.

You study up on the history of Amsterdam so you can ace your final job interview.

You spend an entire day cleaning the apartment, until the uneven floors glisten and you can see your hopeful expression on every gleaming surface. You organize the tea collection and tidy up the dog toys, ignoring what this does to your heart.

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