I’ll be over by 8.
Can we reschedule coffee?
She felt ridiculous at the prospect of ejaculating her messy, amorphous feelings all over such a sparse and impersonal exchange. A wall of vulnerable blue text pushing his five terse characters right off the screen. The idea of calling him left her even more overwhelmed. After three days without hearing from him, either, she knew it was time to stop torturing herself about what she should say to him. It was over. She’d been seduced by the fantasy of her and Ethan, Ethan and her, and she’d let it ruin everything. She’d fucked up, and she needed to move on.
Eventually she turned her phone off entirely and put it in thedrawer of her nightstand like it was radioactive. There was nothing good on there for her right now. Though Audrey kept telling her that any attention was better than no attention, Grey found that hard to believe. No attention seemed preferable to the endless reposts and tags of the photos of her and Ethan, the supportive texts from friends and acquaintances doing nothing to mitigate the indignity of the nonstop stream of filthy and harassing DMs flooding every inbox.
Audrey had assured her that she was working overtime to get the pictures taken down, but beyond that, Grey’s legal options were limited. Apparently, since she and Ethan were public figures, California’s revenge porn laws did not extend to them. And now that they were online, trying to get the pictures removed was like fighting a pornographic hydra: take one down, and ten more spring up in its place.
Grey lay listless on the couch, unable to endure anything more stimulating thanPlanet Earth. Suddenly, her front door knob began to shake and rattle. She sat bolt upright. Was this the grand finale of her week from hell? Getting murdered in her own home? Her phone was too far away for her to do anything other than watch as the front door swung open to reveal Kamilah, laden with several enormous suitcases.
Grey took one look at her and burst into tears.
“Is this real? What are you doing here?” she sobbed.
“This leg of the tour is over next week, so I figured I’d head home a little early. Which you wouldknowif you’d answered any texts for the last three days.” Kamilah’s voice was teasing, but her brow knitted in sympathy behind her wire-rimmed glasses. Grey knew she must look like a fucking mess. Kamilah, as always, looked gorgeous, showing little to no signs of her transcontinental journey. Her hair, which had been curly and voluminous when she’dleft, was buzzed short, making her razor-sharp cheekbones pop even more than they normally did.
She put down her luggage and crossed over to Grey, embracing her. Grey clutched her tightly, her shoulders shaking. She had never been happier to see anyone in her life.
“You look so beautiful,” Grey gulped through her tears. Kamilah laughed.
“I’m going to go wash the plane off me,” Kamilah said gently. “Then we’ll talk. Then we’ll plan. It’s all going to be okay.” She sniffed. “Maybe the first part of this plan should includeyoushowering, too.”
An hour later, the dishwasher and washing machine hummed, and the trash that had covered the living room was now confined to a garbage bag by the door. Grey and Kamilah, squeaky clean, lounged on the couch as Grey regaled her with the saga of the last two months.
“Iknewit! You were being so weird about everything, I knew something had to be up,” Kamilah said smugly.
“I know, I know, I’m sorry. I’ve been the worst friend lately. I was kind of relieved you weren’t here, honestly, it would’ve been impossible to hide it from you. But I’m so fucking glad you’re back.”
“So where are things now? Have you guys talked?”
Grey shook her head. Kamilah’s jaw dropped.
“What? Like not at all? Emilyyy,comeon.Has he been trying to talk to you, at least?”
Grey buried her face in her hands. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. I haven’t looked at my phone in days. I don’t even know what I would say to him. I just want to forget everything and move on.”
“I bet you do,” Kamilah said drily.
Grey bent her knees to her chin and folded her arms on top ofthem. “I mean, we agreed that things couldn’t continue past the weekend. And now that the contract’s over, there’s really no reason for us to see each other again. It’s simple. No need to hash it out and prolong the drama.” Maybe saying it out loud would help her actually believe it.
Kamilah looked skeptical. “But whose idea was it for things to stop after the weekend?”
“Mine,” Grey admitted.
“And who broke the contract?”
Grey didn’t like where this was going. “I did.”
Kamilah scoffed.
“You are cold as ice sometimes. You obviously like him, you two were liking each other all over the house. You do this all the time. You’re always looking for reasons to cut people out, stop them from getting too close.”
Grey opened her mouth to deny it, but realized she’d admitted that exact thing to Ethan.
“This is different,” she spluttered. “I lost my first job in ayearbecause of him. This whole thing has been nothing but trouble since day one. Plus, he’s a fucking mess. I don’t need someone I have to take care of. I don’t need that shit in my life. I don’t.” Although she hadn’t had to take care of him this weekend. From falling on the cobblestones to falling asleep in his arms, he’d been thoughtful and attentive to her every need.
She closed her eyes, her words catching on the image she couldn’t get out of her mind: the winter in his expression as she walked out the door. Fighting ice with ice until they both froze to death. “He’s been so hot and cold with me from the beginning. I can’t take it anymore. If I hadn’t done it, he would have. Eventually.”
