Buried under my pillow, my sheet damp from my stupid tears, I heard the muffled sound of my bedroom door opening, then closing. I felt Meredith sitting on the bed beside me. She took the phone I still held in my hand and laid it on the bedside table.

“This can’t go on,” she said gently and removed the pillow, wincing when she saw the state of me. “You can’t just put your life on hold so you can speak to Xavier Pascale every night. Especially not when it’s killing you like this.” She reached over and grabbed the box of tissues, ripping a handful out and pressing them into my palm. “It might be the middle of the night for him, but for you it’s prime socializing time. You are young and hot and deserve a real relationship. Not to lie here crying in the dark every night over a man thousands of miles away who couldn’t see what he had when he had you.”

“I don’t cry every night.” How did I explain our normal phone calls? “I—you’re right. Of course.”

“So?”

“So what?”

“So what are you going to do about it?” she asked.

Tonight notwithstanding, mostly it had been comforting to lie here in silence connected to Xavier. Even though it was seriously fucked up. “Nothing. I’m not going to do anything. He needed me. I wanted to be there for him.” And now we probably wouldn’t speak again.

“Nothing? I need you. You’re supposed to be my friend, yet between your new job and your nightly phone calls, I never see you.”

I bit my lip. “I’m sorry.”

“What does he talk about, anyway? I mean you just lie there listening. That’s some weird shit.”

“We don’t talk. Usually. I just let him fall asleep. He-he doesn’t sleep well, and—”

“You have to be kidding me. You’re blowing me off so you can listen to a guy sleep?” She threw her arms up. “Fuck that shit. Get up.” She stood.

“Meredith. No.”

“Yes. I’m getting an ice pack for your eyes and we are going out. What the hell, Josie? This isn’t you. You are not one to let some guy gut you of your self-esteem.”

“I don’t need tough love right, now, Mer. I hear you, okay? I know. I know. Xavier and I won’t be talking anymore. I told him we’re done. So just let me grieve tonight. I’ll go out soon with you, I promise.”

She towered over me, hands on hips. “Promise?”

“Yes.”

She sank onto my bed again. “I’m sorry. I just hate to see you like this. And I really hope if you ever, ever, caught me in the same position, you’d kick my ass.”

I squeezed her arm. “Pay back will be a bitch, I promise,” I said sincerely.