Page 126 of Everything's Coming Up Rosie

He holds up a hand to silence me. “The thing is, Rosie, she made me better. Without Annie, I don’t know how to exist, let alone work. That superpower she told me I had? I don’t want it anymore. I don’twantto connect with people. Or to understand them. I don’t want—”

“The big feelings,” I say quietly.

He nods, and it’s like placing the last piece of a puzzle I’ve beenworking on for weeks. Arthur changed when Annie died. They were a team, and he doesn’t know how to function without her. So he doesn’t even try.

“Do you know when I met Bertie, I felt something I hadn’t felt in a long, long time.”

“That’s good,” I say.

He shakes his head. “It feels like betrayal.”

I understand even more how deeply he loved her.

“She’s not my Annie.”

“No, Arthur, nobody can replace Annie,” I tell him with more authority on the subject than I have. “But I don’t think that’s what she’s trying to do.”

He’s very still for a beat, and then says, “She kissed me, you know?”

My eyes go wide, and I try very hardnotto picture that, but I fail.

And now the imagined image of Bertie and Arthur making out on the park bench outside is burned into my brain.

“She kissed me, and I liked it,” he says.

I manage not to wince and shudder and run home and shower myself off with steel wool, though it takes all my energy. “Isn’t that... good?”

“I felt so guilty,” he says. “Because I made a promise to Annie. To love her forever.”

“To love her until death do you part,” I say gently.

“But I still love her, Rosie.” His voice breaks. “I always will.”

“I know.”

Then realization hits me. If things don’t change, ifIdon’t change, I’ll never have a love like Arthur and Annie’s. And I want one. A love of my own. It’s never been a priority. I always played it safe. Focused on my career. Avoided the big feelings. And I told myself it was enough.

I told myself I didn’t want to lose myself in some guy. Or to let anyone or anything pull me off course.

But this summer has cracked me open and made me see that there’s so much more to this life than the singular pursuit of a dream.

“Arthur,” I say. “I believe that our hearts are made to hold a lot of love. Different kinds. Different sizes. For a lot of different people.”

I do believe that, don’t I?

“It’s not a betrayal to let yourself enjoy someone’s company,” I tell him. “And I have to believe that if Annie had a say, she’d want you to be happy. She’d want you to live the years she didn’t get to live. Do you really think Annie would be happy to see you pushing everyone away? Not teaching when there are so many of us who could learn so much from you?”

“No, she would not.” His smile is sad. “Annie would tell me to get my head out of my rear and do what I was born to do.” He brightens a little. “Only she’d use more colorful language.”

I smile. “Ooh. I like her.”

“You two would’ve been peas in a pod,” he says, shaking his head slightly.

We sit in the quiet for a moment, and without meaning to, I stumble upon the answer to his earlier question. “You know, I didn’t go after this dream only because of that promise I made. I know why I want to be an actor.”

“Oh?”

I shake my head, letting the revelation form because it’s there, but it’s foggy, like it needs time to completely slip into place.

---