“You’re the same,” she declared, eventually.
“So are you,” I agreed.
Even though, neither of us was, not really. We were the same to each other.
We stood on the pavement outside Becka’s building, staring up at the windows we’d shared for a brief a period. It looked the same.
“Milo’s pee patch looks remarkably verdant.”
I pointed at the little square of grass, home to a dwarf tree and now several wildflowers. It had always been a bit of a scraggly area of greenery, owing to it being the unofficial peeing area for Milo – a geriatric little Chihuahua that belonged to Becka’s downstairs neighbour.
“Milo died,” Becka said in a hushed voice.
I gasped. “No!”
She nodded. “In the spring. He had a good run.”
“He had a nice life,” I agreed.
In his later years, he’d taken a shine to Becka, which largely seemed to involve trying to mark her by peeing on her.
“May he rest in peace,” I said solemnly.
“Come on.” She nudged me, and together we walked inside, out of the chilly LA morning.
The apartment looked as though I had just gotten home working a day at Pisces.
“It’s the same,” I remarked with some surprise, noting only after that I’d said that same phrase half a dozen times since the airport.
It was true, though. I’d kind of expected it to reflect some difference from the past two years, including her cohabitation with Ben, her again ex-boyfriend.
“New couch,” she said lightly.
“You bought the same one?” I asked dubiously.
“IKEA had a sale,” she shrugged, “and I liked the old one.”
“Why’d you bother replacing it then?”
“One of the legs snapped,” she said, darkly.
“Do I want to know how?”
I scrunched my nose, vividly remembering the first time I’d met Ben.
Becka laughed. “Lets just chalk it up to another casualty of the rollerblades."
I dumped my bags on the floor and walked over to the new sofa.
“Is this my bed, then?”
“As if I’d make my best friend sleep on the couch,” she scoffed.
Becka crossed the apartment and, to my surprise, pushed open the door to my old room.
More of a box room, really. Only ever big enough for a bed, a bedside table, and a small dresser.
I frowned as I moved to stand beside her. I looked inside, expecting it to be empty. I knew Becka had gotten rid of my bed to move in a desk and chair when Ben had been working from home, and presumably he’d taken his furniture when he’d moved out, but just like when I’d first walked into the apartment, it was startling to see it almost like I’d never left.
