She says softly, “I was glad that you weren’t him, but I felt guilty, and I didn’t know how to deal with it all.”
“Deal with what?”
“This feeling more real than my real life.”
“I don’t know what that means.” He sighs. “I like you, Aubrey. But you’re confusing as hell, and I don’t think it’s just your bullet-train mind. Something’s going on with you. And you either trust me enough to tell me or you don’t.”
Aubrey stares at him blankly, trying to come up with an Aubreyism to explain all this away. He’d never believe the truth. He waits, longer than most would, before resting his hand on top of hers and slipping his arm free.
Her heart deflates. But she can’t force him to stay. “At least take the tea.”
This time, he accepts it. “I know this is complicated. I’m not naive. But I also know there’s something here.” He sips the tea, giving her a last chance that she doesn’t take.
He’s halfway down the block by the time she whispers, “I know it too. That’s what scares me.”
Aubrey watches him go, her brain launching into overdrive—succulents and her rock collection, Lauren Stevens and Ethan’s dirty mug, that pool shed and the start-up program, and the family she doesn’t know here and the family waiting at home, and her grandmother’s afghan.
She loved running her fingers along the bumps on the blanket, which had perhaps helped her grandmother understand Aubrey’s obsession with coding in a way her parents didn’t. Coding wasn’t all that different from those knits and purls, each strand of yarn important but unable to do much on its own. But together, loop after loop, knot after knot, row after row, the strands formed something new, something complete, something that couldn’t be broken.
She sits at the bistro table and pushes her tea to the side. Fromthe tote bag she grabs a pen and the slip of paper with yesterday’s shopping list. On the back, she draws a straight line down the middle. She writes “pro” on one side, “con” on the other. And then she makes her list.
Visually, it’s clear. On one side of the column, there’s a single entry. But it carries a tremendous amount of weight.
She studies it, willing herself not to make the decision her head knows is right despite it tearing off a chunk of her heart. The familiar ache of grief spreads across her chest as she pulls the glass octopus from Kai out of her pocket. She forgot to give it back, not that she wanted to, but she also couldn’t leave it in the apartment. She finishes her tea, tucks the octopus back into her jeans pocket, and heads off to meet her two best friends.
47
Ilena
Wednesday Afternoon
Six DaysAfterthe Outing
Ilena accepts the handle of the rolling suitcase and sets it beside the teal sofa that Mallory pretends to hate. The dog that falls into that same category edges forward to sniff the wheels.
“This was very sweet,” she says.
Felix remains in the doorway. “You at least need a few things if you’re going to be staying with Mallory. No offense to the singleton, but you two are no longer the same size.”
She smiles and he smiles. There’s an awkwardness between them that highlights they aren’t a real couple. She doesn’t know how she didn’t see it before. She gestures for him to sit and offers him something to drink, but he gratefully declines. She doesn’t know if his morning beverage is coffee or tea and how he takes it—or if he takes it at all.
He lowers himself into the armchair across from her. “Awful, truly awful. Grayson Fields. How is Mallory? How are you?”
Leaving, we’re leaving, I’m leaving. I’m leaving you. I’m leaving this child. I’m so sorry.
She swallows. “In shock, I guess.”
“Of course, of course.” He shifts uncomfortably. “I appreciate the closeness of your friendship and you staying here to support her. And I want to support you supporting her.”
He’s out of sorts in a way she’s never seen him.
“Felix, if there’s something you want to ask, you can. You should.”
His head bobs up and down. “It’s just... is that the only reason you’re staying here? I know you were having second thoughts not too long ago, but I thought we worked through it.”
Ilena’s not sure why this surprises her so much, that perhaps this arrangement wasn’t as perfect as she’d thought. “Things aren’t the same. Knowing this is a girl has changed me. It’s made me want her to have everything.”
“She will. Certainly. It’s why we exchanged vows. And as we discussed, the condo doesn’t have to be forever. When we get to preschool and elementary—”
