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  “It’s not dating they’re doing,” Yvette said, smirking. “I’m pretty sure they’re just fucking.”

  “Yeah. I can’t seem to get on board with the whole casual fucking thing.” I shrugged.

  “Welcome to twenty-eighteen, Ev. That’s what people do these days. They even have apps for it.”

  I laughed. “I’m good, thanks. I’m sure I’ll find time to date now that year one is done. They say it’s the most grueling one.”

  “For your sake, I hope they’re right. You have major bags under your eyes and that is not a good look.”

  We laughed at that.

  “You sure Devon won’t mind me staying at your place?”

  “He doesn’t live there anymore and I’m pretty sure he has a new girlfriend.” She shrugged as if this was no big deal. Maybe it wasn’t. Who even knew the rules of dating anymore. “Besides, I already told you I need all the help I can get. I need to pack up before the end of the week.”

  “I can’t believe you’re moving.”

  “Welp, I’m no longer dating a Wall Street mogul, so I kinda had to move out.”

  That made me laugh. For starters, Yvette Gomez didn’t need a Wall Street boyfriend to afford her apartment. Secondly, Wall Street has never been her style, she’s more of a Brooklyn girl at heart.

  “Well, I’m happy to help. I just want to lay low and chill while I’m here.”

  “About that . . . “ Yvette parked the car and looked over at me. “I kind of told Monica we’d go by her place. She’s having a house warming party and I couldn’t say no.”

  “Cory’s cousin Monica?” I gaped at her as she nodded. At least she had the decency to cringe about it. “You hate Monica.”

  “Don’t judge.” She laughed. “I don’t hate her. I just didn’t mesh well with her in college. We’re grownups now. Besides, I ran into her at yoga and she invited me. I couldn’t say no.”

  I shook my head as I stepped out of the car and pulled my bag and jacket out of the backseat. “I’ll go, but I’m totally judging.”

  * * *

  I rarely drank, but when I was with Yvette, two glasses of wine was the norm. It took my usual two glasses and sharing a bowl of weed to tame my anxiety before Monica's house warming party. It wasn't that I didn't like to go out or celebrate other's successes. Unlike Yvette, I actually did like Monica. I just didn't want to run into Cory. The mere thought of it made me queasy. This last month, after I stopped returning his calls and limiting our texts, I'd been feeling empty. It was unlike me to do that, but it was also unlike him to act like such a jerk. On a particularly bad night, I'd almost hoped he'd started dating someone in my absence, but if I was being entirely honest, the reality of that would kill me, so I decided to face the situation head-on and text him.

  Hey, I’m in town. Just wanted to let you know.

  I looked at my phone for a while, watched the “Read” tag appear beneath the text I’d sent and then . . . nothing. He ignored me. This did nothing to calm my nerves. I turned to Yvette as we took the elevator up to Monica’s apartment.

  “What if he’s dating someone?”

  Yvette offered me a sympathetic smile. "We break his kneecaps."

  “I’m serious, Vette.”

  “I know.” She sighed. “I just don’t know what you want to hear from me. I keep telling you to tell him how you feel and save yourself the heartache and you continue to ignore me.”

  “I can’t,” I whispered.

  “Well then, you have to fully accept the consequences for friend-zoning yourself and put your big girl panties on if you do see him with another woman.”

  I groaned as we stepped out of the elevator. She was right, of course. I needed to be okay with the possibility that Cory would be here and that he might be here with someone else. Monica smiled wide when she saw us on the other side of her door.

  “Oh my God, Ev!” She wrapped her arms around me and pulled me into a tight hug. “How long are you in town for?”

  “A few weeks.”

  “Weeks?” She squeaked as she pulled away. “Why didn’t you RSVP to my wedding next weekend?”

  “You’re getting married?” My jaw dropped. “I thought marriage was for needy individuals who need to constantly have a reminder that they’re not alone in the world?”

  “Oh my God.” Monica hid a fierce blush behind a loud laugh. “How do you remember that?”

  I shrugged.

  “She’s a lunatic. That’s how,” Yvette said beside me.

  Monica let go of me and gave Yvette a hug before we walked into the apartment, which I could only describe as dripping in luxury. The kind of place your grandmother would never welcome you into, let alone allow you to sit on a couch.

  “Geez, Mon,” I whispered.

  “I know. Andrew does very well for himself.”

  “Another Wall Street boy?” I asked. “You have to give me the deets.”

  “I’m surprised my cousin hasn’t filled you in.” She raised an eyebrow, giving me a knowing look. “What happened between you guys anyway? One minute you were inseparable, the next you were just gone.”

  "My residency happened," I explained, trying to ignore the dip in my stomach.

  Had Cory moved on? He must have, with the look she had on her face. Was he here with another woman? My stomach roiled at the possibility. I realized as I stood there, mulling over these scenarios, that no substance, medically provided or otherwise, was going to help reduce my anxiety about this. Thankfully, Cory wasn’t there.

  Monica finished the tour of the penthouse on the rooftop, which was as amazing as I’d imagined an Upper eastside rooftop would be. It looked like a secret garden, with ivy clinging to the brick walls, a nice long table with six chairs, and a huge grill.

  “I hope you’re planning to use this area,” I said, taking it all in.

  “Oh, yeah, it was what sold me on it. Andrew works late hours though, so we may need to have a lot of girls nights up here.”

  “Count me in,” Yvette said.

  “Me too, when I move back.”

  Monica smiled. “Let’s stay up here for a little while so we can really talk.”

  “You don’t have to play hostess?” Yvette asked.

  “I’m sure they’ll survive. Andrew will be home any minute with more booze anyway. He can do the entertaining for a bit.”

  We sat around the table and Monica started regaling us with the tale of Andrew and her love story – how they met (a bar), how they hit it off (the back of the bar), the first time they hooked up (the back of the cab, on their way home from that bar). They’d been dating for three months before deciding marriage was their next move. That was the part in the story where I had to ask her to pause, or maybe my gaping did that for me.

  “I know it’s quick, but when you know, you know.” She shrugged, refilling mine and Yvette’s glass of wine.

  “How’d you know?” Yvette asked.

  “How’d you know Devon wasn’t the one?” Monica asked.

  "I'm not sure that he wasn't. I didn't really put much thought into it." Yvette shrugged. "I just don't think finding love is the end of be all of our lives you know?"

  “How do you know Cory isn’t the one?” I wasn’t sure which one asked the question because I was only half paying attention, but I felt both of their eyes on me. I licked my lips and cleared my throat.

  “I figure we’ve had so many opportunities to make this official and we haven’t.” I shrugged, ignoring the knot in my throat as I say the words.

  “I remember when you were dating Michael, Cory was so mad. None of us could bear to be in a room with him,” Monica said, laughing as she shook her head. “It seemed pretty obvious to all of us that he had feelings for you.”

  “What’d he say?” Yvette asked. “Why didn’t he tell her anything?”

  “He was adamant that he just didn’t like Michael for Evelyn, but had nothing against the guy.” Monica rolled her eyes. “Typical man shit.”

  “Men
are dumb,” I said.

  “So are women, if we’re being completely honest.” Yvette shot me a look.

  “I won’t argue there.” I took a sip of my wine.

  I was feeling relaxed when Monica’s eyes widened as she looked at something or someone over my head. From the way she looked between me and the person, I knew it had to be Cory. My heart kicked in, fast and heavy. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I tried to act natural, stay relaxed, but my back stiffened and my jaw clenched and I sat up straighter than I had all night. I heard the footsteps, felt him before I smelled him, smelled him before he came into view, that scent of the woodsy cologne and fresh aftershave, the one that had been wrapping around me since he started using it way back in the day. I didn’t look up.

  “Good evening, ladies,” he said. My heart kicked even harder. “Mon, Andrew’s looking for you.”

  Monica stood, blinking down at me to make sure I’d be okay. I couldn’t breathe, let alone answer, but I offered a small, appreciative smile.

  “I’ll go with you so I can finally meet the guy.” Yvette stood, flashing a quick smile over to me, then looking up at Cory. “Hey, Cor.”

  “Hey, Yvette,” he responded, the gravelly voice hitting me in the center of my chest.

  I pushed my chair back. If they were leaving, the natural thing would be for all of us to leave as well. “I’ll – “

  “You’ll stay.” He held my shoulders down as we watched them walk away. “Just for a moment. You owe me a conversation.”

  I nodded, licking my lips, even though I didn’t want to have a conversation right now. I still hadn’t looked at him. I realized that wanted to. I wanted to act normal and pretend nothing had transpired. More than anything, I wanted my friend back, and it was on that thought that I turned and looked up at him. His hair was a short mess of soft waves, his perfectly sculpted face was cleanly shaved, his deep blue eyes were filled with something – sadness, confusion, I wasn’t sure. He let go of the back of my chair and sat beside me.

  “When did you get here?”

  “This morning.”

  “And you sent me a text to tell me you were here what, an hour ago?”

  “I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me.” I looked away, my eyes on the rooftop, the lights of the other buildings, as I chewed my lip.

  “Are you kidding? Why wouldn’t I want to see you?”

  “You haven’t called me in a month.” I met his gaze. “And every time we spoke before that, it seemed like all you wanted to do was argue.”

  “Last time I called you, you were hanging out with some guy at midnight.”

  “Studying,” I said, my voice firm. “Not that it should make a difference to you what we were doing together.”

  He moved closer. “It shouldn’t make a difference to me that my fiancé was hanging out with some guy at midnight?”

  “Fake fiancé, Cor." I clenched my jaw but continued to look him in the eye. "Don't you think it's time we give up the little charade? I'm sure Veronica caught wind of the engagement by now, especially after ending her own. Or what, are you waiting to put on a fake wedding in hopes that she'll interrupt it first?"

  “Damn.” He moved closer. My heart pounded. He leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear. “Tell me how you really feel, Ev.”

  “Stop, Cory.” I pulled away. I couldn’t handle the close proximity. I hadn’t seen him in too long, touched him in too long. He brought a hand and placed it over mine, caressing it gently.

  “I miss you.”

  "I miss you, too." I pulled my hand from beneath him and gave him the best friendship-only smile I could muster, which wasn't forced but also wasn't genuine since friendship was no longer the only thing I felt for him, unfortunately. "How's work?"

  He stared at me for a couple of beats, as if trying to read this sudden change of subject, before answering. “Good. Busy. We got a contract to renovate an old library, which has been a nice change from high rises.”

  “That sounds nice.” I picked up my glass and took a sip. “I’m assuming you’re going to Monica’s wedding.”

  “So are you.” He reached over and took the wine glass from my hand. I watched as he took a sip. “I RSVP’d for both of us.”

  “Please.” I rolled my eyes. “It’s next weekend and you hadn’t even mentioned it.”

  “Well, I was going to call you before the end of this weekend to tell you about it, but now I don’t have to since you’re here.”

  “Right.” I took my glass of wine back.

  “How’s the residency going?”

  “Exhausting, but good.”

  “Good.” It seemed like he wanted to ask more about that, but didn’t. He looked out at the view in front of us. “This is nice.”

  “It is,” I agreed. “Dreamy.”

  I could feel his eyes on the side of my face. “I need a drink. You want to come down with me?”

  “Sure.”

  We stood up and I followed him downstairs, back to the kitchen. There were more people in the house now. Yvette was in the kitchen talking to another friend of ours from college when Cory interrupted so he could get through to the bottle of Glenfiddich. He poured himself a glass.

  “So, Yvette, how are things?”

  "Oh, you know. Same Ol'."

  “How’s Devon?”

  “Dating someone new.”

  Cory frowned, stopping for a second before taking a sip of his whiskey. “And you’re okay with that?”

  “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

  Cory, still frowning, took a sip of his drink. “Didn’t he just invest in your brewery?”

  “Jesus, does everyone know about that?” Yvette sighed. “Yes, he did. We’re business partners and friends. It’s not really a big deal.”

  "Maybe," Cory said. "It seems like you move on rather quickly."

  “So does Evelyn.” She smiled at me. I wanted to kill her. “She just doesn’t tell you about it.”

  For what felt like a full minute, Cory was silent as he sipped his whiskey. When he finally turned to me, I could tell he was bothered by her words, though I couldn’t fathom why. We were fake everything for so long, I couldn’t even remember how we’d gotten to this point.

  “We’re engaged,” Cory said, finally.

  “Fake engaged,” I reminded him. Surely he didn’t see a need to put on the charade in front of our closest friends.

  "You have a ring on your finger, don't you?" he looked at my finger, where I'd placed the ring before coming to this party.

  I cursed myself for that. I could practically hear Yvette muttering amateur move in my thoughts. It was an amateur move on my part.

  “I don’t normally wear it,” I said. “I left my jewelry bag in Connecticut and I needed to wear something nice.”

  His lip twitched. “You left your jewelry bag, but you brought the ring.”

  “My finger was swollen. I couldn’t take it off.”

  “Which means you wear it often.” He smiled as he walked away, getting the last word in.

  “Amateur move,” Yvette whispered loudly.

  “Oh, fuck you, I know.” I set my glass down with a heavy sigh. “I seriously don’t even know what to do anymore.”

  “Here’s a wild thought, tell him how you feel!”

  “I can’t!”

  “Why not?”

  “It’ll ruin our friendship forever.” I watched as Cory walked around the room, saying hi to people he knew.

  “Sweetheart, I’m sorry to break it to you, you’ve already ruined your friendship forever.”

  "No, we haven't." I frowned, my eyes still on Cory. He looked up, catching my eyes, and smiled. Something inside of me seemed to summersault.

  “Everyone sees it, Evelyn. You’re in love with him and he’s in love with you. You know, I’m starting to question your intelligence, which isn’t good since I was hoping you’d become my doctor when you finished your residency.”

  “Yvette.” I set down my empty glass and lo
oked at her. “Sorry to break it to you, but I’m going to be a pediatrician, so unless you’re planning to Benjamin Button in the near future, I can’t imagine how I’ll be able to treat you.”

  Four

  My vibrating phone woke me up from a dead sleep. My first thought was: I would kill for an iced white mocha latte right now. My second was: what the hell was I thinking last night? I hadn't drunk that much in years and probably wouldn't again – ever. At least that's what I was telling myself as I patted the nightstand for my phone, which hadn't stopped vibrating for an eternity. I groaned, finally opening my eyes to look for it properly. When I found it, I saw three missed calls from Cory. It was all I needed to wake me the hell up.

  He’d asked me to go home with him last night and I’d declined. His words were: stay at our place. To which I responded, I no longer live there. That’s your place, maybe even yours and Veronica’s soon enough. My words may have come out a little harsher than I'd anticipated, but I wasn't going to backtrack or apologize. I knew I'd done this to myself – I'd pretended with him until I reached the point of no return, where I didn't know what was real and what was make-believe. My phone vibrated again. This time, I pressed the button and answered.

  “Hey,” he said.

  I licked my lips. “Hey.”

  “Did I wake you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Sorry.”

  “You called four times. One time constitutes an apology, I don’t know what you can say about calling beyond that.”

  “Fair enough. I’m not sorry.” He chuckled, a sound I felt in my bones. I shook it off. “What are your plans for the day?”

  "I currently have none." I settled into the comfortable bed in Yvette's guest bedroom. I swear they bought this mattress and comforter off a five-star hotel. "I was supposed to help Vette pack up boxes, but she ended up hiring some guys, so I was just going to hang out around the city while she's at work."

  “Let me take you to breakfast.”

  I stayed quiet for a moment, my stomach growling loud enough that I was sure he could hear it on the other end of the line. “I do need to eat.”

  “Text me her address. I’ll be there soon.”