your head should at least have a pillow that knows how to cradle your skull—”
“What are you—cradle my skull—you know what, never mind. Just never mind.” He shakes his head and moves past me into the bedroom, tossing the pillows back on the bed.
“Well, I need the one that cradles my skull,” I call over my shoulder, going to the living room couch and swapping the pillows.
I’m staring dubiously at the couch as he comes back into the living room. He’s wearing flannel pants and a navy T-shirt; I’m wearing his boxers and undershirt, which has become my nightly uniform. As grumpy as I was about having to give up my expensive silk pajama set, I have to admit, the new PJs are growing on me. There’s a certain comfort in oversized cotton.
Especially when, even after the wash, they still smell a tiny bit like Colin. At least that’s what I tell myself. And yes. I am well aware that I’m acting like a crazy, obsessed weirdo. Don’t worry. It’ll fade when I move out, and he moves on. Probably.
“What’s your issue?” he asks, coming to stand beside me as I stare at the makeshift bed. “Is that pillow not going to adequately cradle my skull?”
“I think you’re going to have bigger problems than the pillow.” I point. “The couch is too short for you.”
“I’ll sleep on my side.”
“You sleep on your back.”
“How do you know?”
“It’s what I told Gordon Price,” I say.
“Who didn’t ask, by the way.”
“Well, I also shared a room with you in Hudson.”
“And what, you watched me sleep?” he asks.
Maybe.
“And then there was the morning I brought you flowers in bed.”
“Which I neither asked for, nor wanted.”
“They were pretty!”
“They were, until they died and basically created their own compost pile.”
“File that one away too,” I say, patting his arm. “Good marriage spat and divorce fuel stuff.”
“You’re really obsessed with this divorce material,” he says, looking down at me.
I turn to face him, hugging the pillow to my chest. “Well, that’s the whole reason I’m here in New York, isn’t it? So we could live together, in order to divorce?”
He studies me, his bright blue eyes even more piercing than usual. “Do you regret it?”
I pluck at the tag of the pillow that’s poking out from the pillowcase. “We couldn’t stay married forever. And while I’m still pissed at Justin for this whole mess, I guess now is as good a time as any to see it through and move on.”
He nods. “You excited to get back to San Francisco?”
“Actually, I don’t know that I’m going back.”
He blinks. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I’ll have to go back to California for a while, at least. My company’s there, my apartment. But being back here in New York has felt really right. I want to mend things with my parents, continue reconnecting with past friends. I’ve been toying around the idea of starting something new, and New York’s just as good a place to do that as San Francisco. Better, in some ways.”
I haven’t really realized that was the plan until I say it out loud. But saying it makes me realize how right it feels. There will be a lot of details to work out, obviously. Friends to say goodbye to, colleagues who will be more than a little shocked, but even knowing there will be some pain, I feel excited.
Colin had been right when he told me I seemed bored whenever I talked about my job, but diving a bit deeper, I’ve realized I’m bored when I think about San Francisco too. Not because the city itself is boring. I love that city.
But I’m also realizing that it’s served its purpose. California was a place, first, for me to escape. And after that, a place to grow up. But it’s time for the next chapter, and my gut tells me that chapter’s here in Manhattan.
Colin is still staring at me in disbelief. “You’re staying here.”
“Well, not here,” I say, gesturing around our apartment. “That might be a little cozy once Rebecca moves in. Unless you’re moving to her place—or getting a new place, or—”
“We haven’t talked about it yet.”
I swallow. “Well, anyway. I don’t really know the details, and I haven’t decided for sure, but if I do stick around, maybe we could like, you know … be friends.”
“Friends.”
“Yeah, like … maybe we could even double date!” I say brightly.
“With whom?”
“With you and Rebecca!” I say, exasperated.
“And? You and—?”
“Well, I’m not seeing anyone yet, but eventually I