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The word comes with the same smile.

“Hi.”

Merry leans in and kisses me. It’s brief, the type of kiss that would barely qualify as anything if I hadn’t become familiar enough with her mouth to feel the difference between this one and the kisses she gives me when we’re alone.

Her hand touches my arm for only one second before she steps back.

There’s something strange about how natural it feels. How two of my worlds are colliding, but it’s almost like a merger. Merry doesn’t become a separate part of my life simply because someone from another part is here to see her.

Rose smiles when she reaches us. “Hi, Flora.”

“Hi.”

Merry glances between us. “Right. You’ve met.”

Maggie introduces herself before Merry can continue. Everyone shakes hands, and then Maggie turns toward Merry.

“We’ve technically met, too.”

Merry studies her for a second before recognition arrives. “Halloween.”

“Yes.” Maggie glances at me, and I recognize that look immediately. “I was there when Flora spent half the party pretending she wasn’t staring at you.”

Merry turns toward me so quickly, I almost laugh. “You were staring at me?”

“I wasn’t pretending, that’s for sure.”

Maggie nods. “That’s actually true.”

“Oh my god,” Merry says as her smile spreads, and there’s no point trying to stop whatever she’s going to do with this information. “Were you eye-fucking me?”

Rose looks between us and shakes her head. “I’m going back inside.”

“You can’t,” Merry says. “You already bought your books.”

“Well, I’ll buy more if it takes me out of this misery.”

The conversation settles after that, losing the strange quality of an introduction and becoming something easier. The three women talk about books, complain about the weather, and compare plans for the rest of the weekend. Merry blushes when Rose pulls out the cookbook they bought and giggles when her sister claims she’s trying to learn how to make something that is not pasta.

There isn’t anything extraordinary about it.

For so long, I’ve thought about relationships as things that occupy space. They require time, attention, compromise, pieces of oneself that have to be moved around to make room for another person. I know that’s not inherently bad because loving someone is supposed to require something from you.

But standing here, watching Maggie laugh at something Merry says while Rose rolls her eyes beside her, I don’t feel anything being displaced.

My life isn’t rearranging itself around Merry.

She’s simply standing inside it.

The thought is still with me when Merry eventually checks the time and tells us they have to go.

“I’ll call you later?” she asks.

“Yeah.”

She kisses me again, just as casually as she did when she arrived, then leaves with Rose.

I watch them until Merry disappears into the foot traffic.