My stomach dropped into free fall. The idea that he would ever do that was impossible while also intoxicating and dangerous thinking. It was a daydream. An easily crushed fantasy. An idea made worse by the fact that in the deepest, most buried part of my heart—a place where I’d stuffed my love for him under a pile of self-ridicule at being a nanny falling for her widowed billionaire boss—a little flicker of hope pulsed to life. Fuck. I’d never get over him if I couldn’t stop fantasizing he missed me and couldn’t live without me.

I gritted my teeth. “Just stop it, okay. It fucking hurts, Mer. I told him how I feel. He knows. He knows and he isn’t capable of meeting me there. He’s too damaged. He’s untrusting. His heart is closed to me. It’s not happening. And I can’t afford to even entertain the idea that he’s thinking about me. I can’t. I’ll break apart. I’m barely hanging on here. Please, as my best friend, help me forget him, help me heal, don’t stick a lever in the cracks in my chest to pry them open.” Tears had sprung to my eyes.

Meredith’s face grew slack. Her hand covered mine where I’d pulverized what was left of the coaster. “Dammit. I’m so sorry, Josie. I’m so thoughtless sometimes. I… I didn’t realize that you really and truly fell for him. Shit.”

“I told you I did,” I whispered and swiped a hand across my cheek.

“And I guess I just thought it was lust and a massive crush … shit, I’m sorry.”

I laid my head down on my arms.

“Okay. I’m closing us out and then we’re going home to Taye Diggs. I’m sorry.”

Nodding, I mumbled, “Thank you.”

A few minutes later, we were walking down King Street toward home. The fall evening was still warm and balmy, but the breeze was laced with a cool undertone.

“I’m sorry,” Meredith said for the fourteenth time.

I slipped my arm through hers and linked us together. “I know.”

“So how was your first week at the new job,” she asked.

“Great, actually. I’m definitely among my people. Half the salary, of course, but twice the satisfaction level. Also, I’ve dusted off my old blog I started in college. I sent out an email to my old subscriber list and they’re all still there, been missing me.” My chest filled again with warmth at how awesome it had been to send out those cold emails after so many years and to have the responses start pouring in.

“Wait. Your Gargoyles and Medallions blog? That’s great. You really had something there, it was sad when you let it go. It was growing so fast, you could have monetized it.”