“Don’t be like that!” Colt cries out.

Nora looks between us. Pain is marring her face.

“We’ll give you a ride,” she says.

“There’s no need—”

“There is,” she insists. “I don’t want you to go by yourself. Plus, it’ll be nice to check in on Joe.”

“I’m not a kid, Nora.”

“I know that,” she says brightly, pretending like all is dandy and Colt and I didn’t just have a standoff. “But I’m a helicopter parent in the making, so deal.”

Begrudgingly, I call Joe to let him know that I somehow roped him into my lie and now we have to at least pretend that we’re meeting. He answers after the third ring, sounding both surprised and worried.

“Is this your way of inviting yourself over?” he grunts, although I can hear that he’s happy to hear from me. Why wouldn’t he be? He wasn’t the one who didn’t want to hang out. I did.

Wincing, I explain, “I told Nora I have plans so she could finally leave the apartment and do something with Colt, and since you’re the only person I know in this town . . .”

“You do know how to make a guy feel special.”

I let out a rusty chuckle. “That’s me. Ever the smooth talker.”

“Might as well make it real if she drives you here, right?”

“Oh, I’m sure you have plans . . .” I trail off.

“What makes you so sure? You’ve very little idea of what my life looks like these days.” Then, after an awkward pause, he asks, “Have you eaten anything today?”

I put my head on the pillow, surprisingly comforted by Joe’s voice.

“Not really. Nora thinks I’ve lost fifteen pounds.”

“What’s left of you, anyway?”

“Mostly attitude and self-pity.” I’m joking about it, but I don’t actually think I have anything left in me. I feel so drained. “What do you want to eat?” I ask. “I can bring us something.”

“Nah. Give me an hour and I’ll go get some steaks and potatoes. And broccoli. You need broccoli.”

“You sound like someone’s sensible mom.”

“And Ever?” He ignores me.

“Yes?”

“Bring comfortable shoes and a coat. We’re going somewhere.”

An hour and a half later, I’m at Joe’s building’s doorstep. Colt and Nora peer at me from their Range Rover across the street. I feel like a kid who’s been dropped at a classmate’s birthday party. I’m so disoriented by the fresh air and general otherness of leaving the house that I don’t dwell on the fact that this is Dom’s building too.