Page 71 of Friends with Benefits

“You’re not Jacob. And someday? Whoever she is? You deserve her.” She shifts, pressing both her palms gently against his cheeks and he’s not sure if she’s freezing or if he’s on fire. His eyes meet hers. “Theodore. Listen.You deserve her.It. Love. A real marriage.”

Theo swallows.

Not her.

You.

You.

You.

He nods against her palms, the safest course of action. Lies. Ignores the frantic flutter of his heart when she lets go and heads inside. Ignores the truth that his father is right about one thing and one thing only. He doesn’t and has never deserved Evelyn Bloom.

15

“Fuckme,” Evie moans midchew.

“Isn’t it obscene?”

Yes, the amount of scallion tofu schmear between the freshest, most perfect bagelisobscene. Yes, the detour to Tompkins Square Bagels, Theo’s favorite bagel spot in the East Village, was—despite her initial reluctance—a good decision. Yes, the hour-long train ride from JFK into Manhattan (even though they’re staying in Bushwick) and trekking her suitcase through slush was worth it.

She swallows, then nods. “I am wrecked.”

Theo giggles.

Giggles.

Her hanger fades, and after another bite, she’s giggling, too. Why? She has no clue. Red-eye flights are awful. Airplane bathrooms are a crime against humanity. But right now, she’s eating a god-tier quality bagel. In the East Village. With Theo. Who can’t stop giggling. Who’s so disarming when he’s wearing his glasses. Who she’smarried to. It’s all so absurd. The last time they were both in New York she was nineteen. Evie’sbeen back a handful of times but has always made a point to keep the city at a distance. Stayed at depressing chain hotels in Midtown. Met up with Saskia at whatever overpriced bar her feet could carry her to. Refused to attempt the subway, to explore, to fall. So in the week leading up to this bagel, she’s been on edge, unsure how it would feel to be back in a city she almost had, with the person she almost had it with.

And.

Well, Evie feels so much.

So many exhausted, delirious feelings.

Instead of acknowledging any one of them, she snaps a silly selfie with the bagel and sends it to Saskia.

“Gen?”

“Sass.”

“Oh.”

Since leavingAfter Ever After, her friendship with Saskia has devolved from daily texts and reviewing whatever they watched over the weekend in memes to an Instagram like, a TikTok link, the occasional DM. Still, Evie is almost positive that if she texts a?, Saskia will drop a pin to a brunch spot. Evie will wear something tasteful but slutty. Knee-high boots required. Saskia will be ten minutes late and arrive like a tornado, their caramel curls windswept, cheeks as rosy as their lips. Evie will sip on an overpriced matcha and they’ll exchange life updates.I married Theo for his health insurance. It’s the only reason I was able to take the fellowship.And it’ll feel good, to state it plainly. Necessary.Good on you, Saskia will say. They’ll split the bill, then Saskia will excuse themself to use the bathroom. Five minutes later, Evie will join them.

And it’ll feel good.

Her lips on Saskia’s skin.

Their tongue between her legs.

Necessary.

“Did you text Eli?” she asks.

“No.”

“You should!” What’s meant to be a gentle nudge comes out way too enthusiastic. “I mean. I was thinking of seeing if Sass wanted to meet for brunch. So.”

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