“So, other than Mason, any other guys on the watch list?” Jess asks.
The room falls quiet for a moment, and the weight of realization settles over me.
“So, what do I do?” I finally ask, feeling lost, hopeful, and terrified all at once.
“You talk to him,” Sophia says firmly. “When he gets back from his boys' weekend, you sit him down and have an honest conversation about what you both want.”
“What if it ruins our friendship?”
“What if it doesn't?” Natalie counters. “What if it makes everything better?”
“Look,” Jess says, reaching over to squeeze my hand. “You all but admitted that being fake-intimate with Brandon felt more real than anything you've ever experienced. That should tell you something.”
As the evening winds down and we start cleaning up, I find myself thinking about Brandon somewhere in La Jolla with the guys. Wondering if he's thinking about me, too. Wondering if this time apart will give us both the clarity we need to figure out what comes next.
“You know what the best part is?” I say as we're gathering our purses to leave. “Even with all the confusion and weirdness, I miss him. It's been a few days, and I actually miss having him around.”
“That's love, honey,” Blair says softly. “When missing someone becomes as natural as breathing.”
“I'm not ready to call it that,” I say quickly.
“You don't have to call it anything,” Sophia says, giving me a hug goodbye. “Just don't let fear make the decision for you.”
As I Uber home to my empty apartment, their words echo in my head. One thing has become crystal clear tonight: whatever this thing is between Brandon and me, it's not going away. And maybe it's time to stop pretending it should.
twenty-nine
. . .
Brandon
I've beento a lot of nice places in my life. Growing up in a family that owns luxury resorts all over has its perks. But Jake's Manmorial Weekend setup in La Jolla? This might actually top the penthouse suite at the Grimaldi Grande in Manhattan.
The house sits on the cliffs like it was carved out of the rock itself, all glass and white stone with views that stretch to infinity. I'm standing on the deck with a beer in my hand, watching the waves crash below as the sun creeps lower in the sky, and for the first time in months, my shoulder doesn't ache. Maybe it's the ocean air. Maybe it's the fact that I'm not hanging off a building or getting thrown through a fake window.
“Pretty incredible, right?” Jake appears beside me, carrying two fresh bottles. He swaps out my empty without me having to ask.
“This place is insane.”
Jake laughs, but there's something tired in it. “Yeah, well, Lauren got the house in Beverly Hills and half my assets. Figured I might as well blow what's left on something that actually makes me happy.”
I study his profile as he stares out at the water. Jake's always been one of the good ones. He's loyal, grounded—the guy who sends reminders in the group chat and actually remembers your sister's name. He's sharp as hell in a boardroom and somehow still the guy who shows up with beer and snacks when someone's had a bad day.
Seeing him go through the divorce has been sobering, like watching someone who usually runs on pure optimism have to slow down and catch his breath. But even now, even with everything, there's still this quiet steadiness in him. Like he knows he'll be okay. Just needs a minute.
“You doing okay, man?” I ask.
He doesn't answer right away. Just takes a long sip of his beer, his eyes on the water.
“I thought I did everything right,” he says finally. “Loved her. Backed her. Never missed a milestone, a red carpet, a lunch with her agent. I thought marriage was all about showing up and making sure she felt supported and loved, like she had it all.”
He exhales through his nose, not bitter, just acknowledging the reality of the situation.
“Turns out, some people don't want a partner. They want to be bankrolled,” he says.
I glance over, but he's already shaking his head, like he still can't believe how long it took him to see it. I stay quiet. Something tells me he's not done talking.
“Lauren wanted the ring, the house, the husband she could name-drop. She didn't want me. Just the access I had.”
