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“You should get her a membership,” I said.

“Can’t, need to tighten the spending. Saving up for a wedding ring now that she’s moving in.”

I froze. “She’s… moving in?”

“Aw, shit, I didn’t tell you, huh? Man, where you been? Yeah, we finally pulled the trigger.”

My mouth went dry. “When did you guys decide this?”

I pictured a shrug.

“I don’t know. Couple of weeks ago?”

A couple of weeks? She didn’t tell me.

I felt blindsided, and I didn’t even know why. It wasn’t my business. They’d been together almost a year. No fighting, no reason to break up—why would it surprise me that they were moving in together? Right? It was the next step. The logical solution.

So why did I feel like I was going to be sick?

He talked to someone in the background. “Hey, I gotta go. My four o’clock is here. Thanks for the shopping thing.”

And he hung up.

I stood there, holding my phone until the screen went black.

Why did I hate this so much? I wanted Mike to get her out of that damn apartment. The neighborhood was dangerous, the place was musty, and God only knew what was coming through the vents. She hated Phil. Her moving was a good thing—so why did it feel so bad? Why did it put a pit in the bottom of my stomach? Make my knees feel like they were going to give out, like my fucking world was ending?

But I knew why.

I didn’t want to admit it, not even to myself, but I knew why.

It was the reason I left my ringer on at night in case she needed me. The reason I loved the way Woofarine’s fur smelled after she had him. It was why I didn’t date. Because of her. Going with Larissa to buy cheese was a thousand times more appealing to me than spending time with literally anyone else. I didn’t just like her.

I was in love with her.

The truth bled into my consciousness like a fatal wound. Permeated everything. Seeped into the recesses of my soul. Something so obvious the only explanation for why I hadn’t accepted it before was denial because what kind of fucking person feels this way about the woman their best friend is going to marry? What kind of piece of shit lets himself get there?

And I couldn’t keep doing it. I couldn’t keep feeling like this about someone I could never, ever have.

It didn’t matter if Mike never knew it and neither did she. I knew.

It was wrong and hopeless and it had to stop.

How could I even look Mike in the eye? The feelings I had were a flaw in my character.

I pulled up the website for my wholesale club. I bought her a membership, texted her the information, told her I wasn’t feeling well, and left work ten minutes early so I wouldn’t be there if she came back.

And then I got Heather’s number and I called her.

33

LARISSA

Chris ghosted me.

The last time I talked to him was at the pharmacy two weeks ago. He texted me a membership number, said he wasn’t feeling good, and was gone by the time I got back. Since then he’d barely replied to my messages. He said he was sick so the day after the pharmacy, I made a batch of chicken and dumplings soup just for him and went over to drop it off. He didn’t answer the door. I left it on his porch and an hour later he Venmo’d me the money to pay for it with a generic Thanks. I didn’t want him to pay me—the soup was a gift. When I texted him that, he didn’t reply.

Something felt wrong, but I didn’t know what and I didn’t have time to figure it out.