Page 80 of Friends with Benefits

At this point he isn’t sure who’s avoiding who or why they’ve been avoiding each other. Theo isn’t one to read into signs, but bumping into Topher at Alejandro’s sure as hell feels like one. His former roommate may have been a catalyst, but Theo never blamed him for the aftermath of Evelyn’s surprise visit. Really, Theo had no one to blame but himself for the weeks, months, years of awkwardness that stretched between them because it was easier to be fine, to be busy, to avoid acknowledging how goddamnguttedhe felt when she emerged from Toph’s bedroom.

Now?

Here?

Theo just wants to stop.

Avoiding.

“Thanks.”

His eyes meet hers in the mirror.

Eyes that match a dress that is simple and stunning.

All the time.

Even tequila-buzzed Evelyn couldn’t get the words out, but Theo knew what she was asking.He knows her. And she needed to know that even if she couldn’t ask the question, he could answer it. Easily. She pivots so she’s facing him, and somewhere in the multiverse he takes her mouth with his, unzips this simple, stunning dress, then drops to his knees, and they skip the bat mitzvah.

Instead, he watches her remove her wedding band.

Fuck.

When did he start thinking of it ashers?

“I’ve been thinking… we don’t have to pretend here.”

“Why have we been pretending at all?”

Evelyn flushes, then shrugs. “I’ve kind of lost the plot myself. Can we stop? I mean. I suppose in exchange for unreal health insurance you can still be Mr. Evelyn Bloom at school. Though it could probably be considered workplace discrimination that marrying me changed, like, how people treat you at work. But—”

He cuts off her babbling. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

Theo nods, then removes his ring. Changes into his suit, pops two Advil with his daily dose of Lexapro, then attends a bat mitzvah both jet-lagged and hungover, an ideal combination for spending the morning in a synagogue. He drifts during the service. Even at his best, he’s never able to staypresent while listening to prayers in a language that he doesn’t understand. Theo’s Judaism has always been less a religious practice, more a spiritual one. Evelyn wipes a tear from her cheek as Avia is called to the Torah. Every time the rabbi calls the congregation to stand, she looks over her shoulder.

Confirms that no, Naomi is not here.

Theo isn’t surprised.

When it’s time to recite the Mourner’s Kaddish, Theo stands and recites along. Yitgadal v’yitkadash sh’mei raba. You’re technically only supposed to recite kaddish for a parent during the first year of mourning. But Theo hasn’t been in a synagogue since Lori died. So as far as he’s concerned, he owes it to her. And though he isn’t religious, there’s something comforting about the ritual. Evelyn reaches for his hand and weaves her fingers through his. Presses their palms together. And then it is over and he’s seated and she doesn’t let go, not until the ceremony concludes and she’s on her feet.

“Let’s go.”

“Without saying mazel tov?”

Her eyes shift toward the bima, where Avia, Miriam, and Mateo are surrounded by family and friends. “Later.”

Having hours of time to kill before the party, Theo and Evelyn get falafel for lunch at Mamoun’s and see a movie at the Angelika. She chooses a pretentious independent film about chess that’s garnering awards buzz, then sleeps through the entire thing. After her twenty-five-dollar nap, they walk to the venue. The Bowery Hotel. It’s a short walk from the theater. Evelyn wears Theo’s wool peacoat because it’s long and her dress is short. He doesn’t mind. He misses everything about New York. Even its weather.

Miriam and Mateo greet guests at the entrance to the ballroom. Mateo is a mop of gray curls, a well-tailored suit, shorter than Miriam in heels. She’s dressed in gold sequins, her arms covered in botanical tattoos wrapping around Evelyn in a hug.

“I can’t believe you came all this way,” Miriam says.

“I wanted to,” she says, her smile shy. “It’s small. Our family. You know? And Avia is awesome. So.”

Mateo chuckles. “Aviaisawesome.”

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