At a quiet moment, while she was riding the high of trouncing a man bun at darts, she sat at the bar and waited for Steve to refill her glass with more ginger ale and tried to figure out why she felt so … fine.

It had been less than a week since her so-called life fell apart, and during that time she had also lost a job she really wanted. And yeah, she did feel pretty shitty about it all. But along with the moments of abject misery (like when she faced Nadim yesterday), she also had moments of joy. A few laughs with her sister, tea on the back deck with Marley and Shayne, and tonight, a great night at the Sparrow, by herself. She was dealing. Not incapacitated by … misery or lethargy. This was nothing like the last time life threw her in a ditch.

Was it because she had more support? Was it because she hadn’t been drinking? Or was it because she was being honest with herself about her problems for the first time in a very long time?

And there was a big question. One that she needed to know the answer to, considering that no matter how not terrible she felt at this moment, there was nothing on the horizon that said her life was going to get any better. How could she ensure that these brand-spanking-new coping skills stuck around?

She remembered her sister’s suggestion of seeing a therapist. Before she could second-guess herself, she called her doctor and left a message that she needed an appointment soon. It was time for Reena to stop deflecting and distracting, and face this part of her life, too.

She finally left the Sparrow long after the sun set, after excusing herself from another hearty discussion with Steve about the merits of homemade hot sauces. She was exhausted. It had been a long day, and tomorrow might be even longer. She wasn’t entirely sure she had the strength to get through a day of sari shopping with her mother and sister, but she was determined to stop avoiding things that she didn’t want to do. That included talking to Nadim. His car was in his parking space now. She pulled out her phone and texted him.

Reena: We need to talk. Breakfast tomorrow? My place?

She bit her lip as she saw the three dots flash on her screen telling her he was responding. Finally, the text came through.

Nadim: Okay. Message me when you want me to come over.

Good. That was done. And at least she’d get a night’s sleep before she would see him.

Or … not. Because when she went to open her door, she realized she didn’t have her keys. Ugh. She’d had a spare made for Nadim last week—it had seemed like such a huge step in their nonrelationship at the time. And she knew Nadim was home, and awake.

Heart pounding heavily in her chest, she summoned some hidden bravery and knocked before she could change her mind.