Hanna drapes her leg over Evie’s thigh, her knee pressing into her full bladder. Evie untangles herself, in need of the bathroom, then searches Hanna’s overnight bag in need of toothpaste. Her fingers brush against velvet and the sensation is an electric shock of panic.No. Her hand wraps around a small velvet box.No.She removes it from Hanna’s bag and it’s exactly what she thinks it is.No. She opens the box.No. A simple solitaire diamond set in gold sparkles in the morning sun.

No.

“Ev?”

Hanna’s morning voice sounds like sex.

Evie’s knees feel liquid.

Hanna presses her palms against the mattress to sit up and reaches for clear-frame glasses on the nightstand. Seeing the ring box in Evie’s hand, she laughs. “Shit.”

“I needed toothpaste.”

“Come here, Ev.”

“I need to use the bathroom.”

She locks the bathroom door behind her and squeezes her eyes shut. Evie’s just twenty-six, the same age her parents were when they got married, and though she’s certain she doesn’t want to follow in their footsteps, it terrifies her how easy it would be to say yes.

It’s always been so easy to say that word to Hanna.

Yes.

Too easy to lose herself in the fantasy.

Yes.

Like Naomi did.

Yes.

Like Evie swore she wouldneverdo. Shewon’t. Hanna is unfazed by the amount of time she spends in the bathroom. When Evie opens the door, Hanna isn’t on one knee. She’s standing at the end of the bed, ring in hand, looking so goddamn good in an oversized Paramore T-shirt that barely covers her ass and the strawberry bonnet that fully covers her hair.

“I had a whole thing planned, but fuck it. I love you so much. Marry me, Ev?”

No.

No.

No—

“Ev? Is that doable?”

Evie is jolted out of the memory, Amber B.’s direct address reminding her she’s somehow still in a work meeting.

She unmutes herself. “Super doable.”

“You’re the best,” Tiffany P. says.

A message notification pops up on her screen.

Saskia.

Saskia E. (they/she): ummm… u good?

Evie B. (she/her):… do i even WANT to know what I just agreed to?

Saskia is typing…