Again, I’m understating things. This has been a long and shitty five days. But I don’t want Lark worrying about me. She and I have enough baggage between us.

“Hmm,” she says, her brown eyes on me. “I’m gonna need a little more detail than that. Do you miss her? Is it weird being home again?”

“Well, sure.” I sigh. “Everything is a little grim, but not because I’m heartbroken. Breaking up with Daniela is almost a relief, because the other shoe dropped already. The bigger problem is my family treating me like a grenade with the pin pulled.”

“Why?”

“Because they’ve read lots of articles about how to be supportive of your alcoholic family member. I think they’re waiting for me to lose my shit and relapse.”

“Ah.” She frowns into her coffee. “Well that sucks.”

“It does. I spend a lot of time with a fake happy expression. Like this…” I put my teeth together in a ridiculous, plastic smile, and Lark laughs suddenly, low and throaty.

And boom. There it is—the lightning bolt of attraction I always feel when she smiles at me. My desire for her is so familiar that I’m pretty good at hiding it now. I’ve been fighting it off since freshman year of college. I’ve spent ten years trying not to notice Lark’s sparkling eyes and the high color splashed across her wide-set cheekbones.

She is so freaking beautiful that my lungs feel a little tight.

It’s not a secret, either. Lark knows. That cat has been out of its bag for a year. But we never talk about it, because I don’t want to. I know the yearning will never go away. It’s my little cross to bear.

To think if I’d loved Daniela even half as much as I love Lark. My breakup would be a real disaster.

“Has she called you?” Lark asks, as if reading my thoughts.

“Once?” I sigh again. “I got one tearful message that night, left for me from a strange number. But no more since.”

Lark frowns, maybe wondering why Daniela isn’t calling me hourly. But maybe Daniela’s relieved, too. Also, her lack of communication might have something to do with me ruining her smartphone. I’m embarrassed about that petty little act of destruction, so I don’t tell Lark about it.

I’m actually happy not hearing from Daniela. I really am done. I should have left her months ago—as soon as her bad behavior began. We’d been together less than six months when she started putting me down all the time. First in private, and then in front of people.

“Well,” Lark says slowly. “I guess it’s better that you’re not feeling too conflicted right now.”

“It is better,” I agree. “Small mercies. And thank you for being the only one who has made it…” I check my watch. “Fifteen minutes without saying ‘good riddance’ and ‘what were you thinking.’”

My best friend winces. “I won’t say that.”

“Even if you’re thinking it,” I tease.