Page 141 of Friends with Benefits

Charlie’s eyes crinkle in the corners. “When?”

“In…” Evie glances at her watch. “Three hours?”

“Shit.” Sadie snorts. “What have Idone?”

“You’ve gone soft, Sadie.” Charlie laughs. “Go on, kid. We’ll call this a sick day.”

“Day,” Sadie emphasizes, pressing her fingers to her temple. “Rest of the week, tops. Notmonths.”

“Oh my God, I’m coming back!” Evie insists. Charlie’s eyebrows rise, like,Sure. But Evie isn’t done learning from Sadie Silverman and Charlie Crosby. “Seriously! You’re stuck with me for the rest of the fellowship. At least.”

Sadie laughs, then wraps her arms around Evie in a hug.

Evie holds on.

She wants to hold on to the people who matter to her.

“We know people in New York, kid,” Charlie says. “Just saying.”

Sadie releases her first, shoving Evie out the door becauseshe has a bag to pack and a flight to catch and the next hour is hurried steps and tossed clothes and her erratic heartbeat.I love you, too. Obviously.

Obviously.

Obviously.

Evie settles into the back seat of her Uber in disbelief that she’s going to New York. Of course she’s going to New York. Evie listens to Billy Joel on her way to the airport as the ETA ticks up, up, up. Friday traffic. She arrives at the terminal twenty minutes before boarding closes and begs to cut the security line. Tears are fine. Her “I Can’t Wait” card is even more effective. Thankfuckfor that accommodation. She has time to use the bathroom, the combination of stress and physical exertion resulting in an emergency situation. Bodies. They’re so fun. Evie arrives at her gate just as its final boarding call is uttered over the PA system.

She scans her ticket and enters the Jetway.

Whispers, “Goodbye for now.”

Itisfor now. Evie will come home to finish her fellowship. But after? Will her heart still be tethered here or pulled to New York? Who knows? She supposes it depends how this airplane ambush goes. Either way, she doesn’t want to waste another second pushing away the person she loves or denying that these last eight months pretending to be Theo Cohen’s wife haven’t changed everything. Evelyn Bloom is—has always been—someone who stays.

But for the first time in her life, she wants to know who she could be if she left.

30

Not even Billy Joel soothes Theo’s flight anxiety as he attempts to settle in his aisle seat while boarding continues. It’s impossible. His knee bounces, so restless. An elder in the window seat reading a Nora Roberts book offers him a cocktail of Xanax and melatonin. He politely declines, then puts headphones on, presses shuffle, and closes his eyes as the opening piano notes of “Vienna” play. The same piano notes that are tattooed across Evelyn’s ribs. Theo skips the song. He couldn’t even say goodbye to her. He chose to slip out of their apartment while she was in the shower like a coward because when he was close to her, everything in his body screamedstay.

But it was time to go.

To let go.

Letting go has been a process that began in the classroom. In his final weeks at Foothill Elementary, Theo thought about begging for his job back on a near-daily basis. He loves teaching. Loves how connected he feels to his mom in the classroom. Theo didn’t consider what it’d feel like to lose that until it wasalmost gone. Instead of sitting with those feelings, he kept busy. Allowed his students to each choose a book from his library to keep and left the rest to be inherited by the teacher who takes over this space. Asked Juniper to take Maude, the guinea pig who will outlive them all. Consoled Kaia, who cried on the last day of school. Milo, too. And rallied to push his field trip proposal through. It took a few grant applications, a “generous donation” (i.e., a portion of his signing bonus), and some opinionated parents… but in the end, he got a fourth- and fifth-grade field trip to the Griffith Observatory on next year’s calendar.

So eventually, his kids will see the stars.

Theo shifts in his seat, drumming his fingers against his thigh as the final boarding call is announced. It’s a full flight. Allegedly. But the aisle is clear and the middle seat between him and the grandparent with a drugstore in their purse is still empty. A small victory. His phone vibrates with a text from Jacob.

Let me know when you land. Or if you get your

head out of your ass and deplane. I can pick you up.

Don’t fucking waste $80 on an Uber.—Dad

2:02P.M.

Texting. It’s something that Theo and his father do now. Sporadically. Letting go of his anger toward Jacob is a work in progress, but he’s trying. Both father and son are trying. Instead of sprinting past Jacob on his Sunday runs, Theo rings the doorbell and steps inside his childhood home. Sips on coffee and asks questions. Evelyn is right. Jacob will talk. Theo learns more about a man who internalized so much shame for the things that brought him joy, a man who letgrief swallow him whole and would still choose it—his mom, the inevitable grief—over and over again. He’s still unsure that Jacob Cohen will ever fully understand him, but Theo can try to better understand his father who is still here, while he is still here.

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