Page 140 of Offside

The three dots appeared almost immediately.

Griffin: No. I will.

Griffin: You okay?

I sat with that for a moment. The fact that he asked. The fact that after everything, the treatment room door, the things said and unsaid, the apology that had landed quietly and stayed, we were still, underneath all of it, us.

Maren: Not really.

Maren: Working on it

My phone buzzed again. Paige this time, not Griffin. A voice note, fifteen seconds, which meant Paige had been thinking about me on her way somewhere.

I played the message. Paige’s voice came through dry and warm. “Checking in. No pressure. Just—I’m here if you need to debrief or drink wine or both simultaneously. Also your succulents on my Instagram got forty-seven likes and I think you’re more popular than you know. Okay. Love you. Bye.”

The comfort of being known by someone who had been paying attention for fifteen years and was not going to stop reminded me how lucky I was to have her in my life after all these years.

I typed back.

Maren: I know. Thank you.

My phone buzzed once more. Jenna this time, which surprised me—we’d only known each other a few months, still in the stage of friendship where you weren’t sure yet whether you were allowed to check in uninvited.

Jenna: Hey. Heard through the world’s least subtle organization that things are a little hard right now. No pressure at all. But I make excellent coffee and I know approximately zero people in this city so if you need somewhere to be that isn’t alone, I’m around.

I read it twice. Not “let me know if you need anything” but a real offer from someone who understood what it meant to be somewhere new with no history yet.

I typed back that I was going to take her up on that.

Jenna: Good. Thursday?

Maren: Thursday.

My phone buzzed again a few minutes later. Jeez. I am popular. Griffin, picking the thread back up where we’d left it.

Griffin: For what it’s worth. I was never actually mad at you.

Griffin: I was mad at the situation. And at myself a little for not seeing it.

Griffin: I felt stupid.

Maren: You were a little mad at me

Griffin: No…

Griffin: Okay yes a little.

Griffin: You really couldn’t have told me?

Maren: Would you have been cool about it?

He took longer than usual to respond.

Griffin: No.

Griffin: But still!

Maren: I know. I’m sorry.