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Being with Jason in the house I’d shared with Brandon didn’t feel strange. I’d lived here alone four times longer than Brandon had ever lived here with me. But I think the biggest part of it was that even when all his stuff had still been here, this place didn’t feel like Brandon’s. It didn’t even feel like mine.

I’d realized something in the past two days. This house was a mausoleum. And not for the man I lost—for myself.

Once I took out everything that belonged to Brandon, all that was left behind was remnants of me—and it wasn’t the me of now, it was the me of back then. The happy me who’d hung shadow boxes and cooked in the kitchen. The one who painted actual, dignified works of art that I was proud enough to hang on walls. These little mementos were all around me, small reminders of a woman I hadn’t seen since Brandon took off on his motorcycle that morning and never came home. And the thing was I wanted to be that whole again. I missed myself.

I missed being happy.

Tonight was the first time I’d cooked anything that actually required effort in more than two years—and it made me wonder why I hadn’t done it sooner. I loved cooking for people. And I loved seeing Jason enjoying something I could do as much as I enjoyed what he put into the universe.

Kristen was right. I’d chosen this life. And I’d had enough. I was going to make a concerted effort to get out of this in-between I was trapped in. I was going to actively pursue joy. I’d cook. I’d maybe start updating my blog again. I had too many paying commissions to be able to dedicate time to painting any of my own stuff, but maybe eventually I’d even get back to that too. And I was going to start now. Not for Jason. Not because he was here to reap the benefits. For myself. I should have done it a long time ago.

When the credits came on, I stretched and Jason sat up and hit the Power button.

“I need to ask you something,” he said, turning to me.

“If you ask me one more time if I’ve lost that loving feeling—”

He laughed. “Not that.” Then his face went a touch serious. “I’m not seeing anybody else. It occurred to me that maybe you might be dating. I just wanted to make it clear to you that I’m only dating you.”

“Is that a question?” I asked, buying time while I processed what I’d heard.

Even though he hadn’t said it before this, I knew innately that he was seeing only me. I just knew. But I guess it was good we were talking about it.

He smiled a little. “Are you seeing anyone else?”

I snorted. “No, of course not.” The idea was almost laughable. Me? Dating? Besides, I liked him way too much to look at other options. But Jason looked…relieved, maybe?

“I would like it if you and I only dated each other,” he said, looking at me intently.

I shrugged. “Okay.”

“You agree?”

“Yes. I won’t see anyone else. Just you.”

He gazed at me for a moment, something soft playing around the edges of his smile. Then he leaned over and kissed me. It was a gentle, closed-mouthed kiss, and when it was over, he stroked my cheek with his thumb, looking in my eyes. My heart fluttered. Then my cell phone vibrated in my lap and we both looked down, reading the text at the same time.

Kristen:Tomorrow. Get here by 5:00. I want help with the sides. BRING HIM.

I groaned.

“What?” Jason asked.

“Kristen is conspiring to meet you. It’s her birthday tomorrow, and Josh is grilling steaks. She wants me to bring you.”

“Sure,” he said.

I shook my head. “No. It’ll be awful. They’ll make you so uncomfortable. They’re shameless. No.”

“So you’re just going to hide me from your best friend? Forever?”

“Yes. That’s the plan. You don’t understand, I can’t even let her know you’re over here right now. She’ll show up just to show you pictures of me at my eighth-grade dance.”

He laughed. “What time should I pick you up?”

“You really want to do this? It may test our relationship.”

“So you admit it’s a relationship,” he said, smiling at me.