“How did I do what?” she asks.

“Make her happy and . . . I don’t know, not crying anymore?”

I laugh. “She hired my services as an artist. I’m making your wedding invitations. Are you scared?”

“Only if you’re going to put skulls and graves on them.” He makes a face. Then, when he gets nothing from me, he says, “Please don’t put any skulls and graves on them.”

“There goes my creative freedom.” I sigh.

“What’s the damage?” He turns to ask her.

“This one’s on the house,” I say. “Least I can do after all the money Nor spent on rent.”

I burn the entire day with Nora and Colt, and they drive me to the airport when it’s time for my flight. Spending time with them was the best thing I could do, because it distracted me from Joe. But now that I’m at the airport, checking in, I look at my phone and realize that Joe hasn’t called. He hasn’t texted either. But everyone else in my life has.

Dad: Renn will wait at the airport to pick you up. Call me when you land.

Donna: I hope it went well. Let us know if you need anything.

Renn: Tell the pilot not to be late. It’s pizza and poker night at Clayton’s.

I answer all three of them and walk around the terminal. I haven’t gone through security yet. Something stops me. I know exactly what that something is. Joe.

Some part of me still expects the coin to flip on our fate again. I pray for one perfect movie moment where Joe chases me at the airport and professes his love for me. When I close my eyes, I can almost see him. Running frantically, catching me in his arms, going down to one knee . . .

You’re not a burden, Ever. And I don’t care that you don’t know what to do with your life yet. I love you just the way you are. We are not cursed. We’ll make it work, you hear me?

But this is not a movie, and it doesn’t happen. Nor should it. My own hypocrisy is not lost on me. From the get-go, from our time in Spain, Joe was the one to save me, to take care of me, to court me, to never give up on me. He was the one who wanted to work together. Create together. He was the one to come to San Francisco. In some ways, I became a bit of a rat too. Addicted to my next fix. To being desired and assured that he was still here, chasing me, loving me, fighting for me.