“Chill. I’ll be okay and we’ll figure that all out later,” I assure her.

“Did you just tell me to chill? Because if so, that was fucking awesome. High five!”

I slap my hand against her and she smiles.

“I’m going to let you get back to doing your thing. Come home tonight, okay? The place just isn’t the same without you.”

“I will. I’m probably not going to be able to afford a Netflix subscription at my new place and I’ve got to finish this season of Black Mirror before moving day.”

I roll my eyes at her snarky reply. It kills me that she won’t meet me halfway in this tender moment, but I’ll take her dry humor if it means we are all good.

“And, hey,” she adds as I’m walking away. “Don’t bother running Justin through your algorithm. I stalked him on Instagram last night and he totally has a girlfriend. What a jackass.”

Back at my place, there’s the most billowing bouquet of peonies I have ever seen just outside the door. I check the label and they are for me from Brian, complete with a card and all. The card, however, isn’t just a slip of paper clipped to a stem. It’s full-sized, sealed in an envelope.

I unlock my door, and Leno lights up at my return like usual. Before I pet him, I set the flowers and the case of rosé with Casey’s name on it on the counter. I know she asked for me to replace just the one bottle I drank, but I owe this girl way more than that.

Sitting on the floor with Leno chewing his toy in my lap, I wish I had Casey’s bra-knife handy to slice open the envelope from Brian. Instead, I use my finger. The paper cut from last week has since healed.

Straightaway, out of the card drops a check written out to Charlotte Rosen, signed by Brian Jackson, in the sum of ten thousand dollars.

Dear Charlotte,

I’ve been wanting to tell you something for years. But it was news that only someone who was close to you should share and I stopped being “close to you” after the night I helped you move out of Highland Park.

The irony is not lost upon me when I think about us and the fact that when I’m finally back in your life and things are really good with us, I have a greater obligation that will wreck it all. Again.

There has never been such a thing as “the right time” to say this. But in addition to being the strongest person I know, you’re the smartest, too. At this point, you probably don’t need me to say it, but for what it’s worth: Decker had a son with a woman before you were ever in the picture.

After Decker died, Gemma reached out to me on Facebook. At first, just to say hi, to see how I was doing with losing D—she knew we were friends. Then she asked me to coffee. The first thing she said when she sat down was, “So I’m sure you know that Decker and I slept together once.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. And I knew right then there was more to the story. She told me about Aiden right after that.