“Poor Julian,” I say.

“He was cute,” she says. “And it worked for a while because you weren’t invested. You’re never invested, Macy. You only have a handful of people you’d actually call friends, and keep everyone else on the surface.”

I move to object and she lifts a sassy hand to stop me.

“Let me get this out, I’ve been working on this speech since the picnic.”

I smile in spite of my anger. “Okay.”

“I’m sure Sean is a great guy, but it’s another version of you and Julian; everything’s on the surface. You never feel what you felt for Elliot, but it’s convenient: you don’t want to feel that again anyway.”

I nod tightly. Sabrina can’t really be blamed for saying aloud the things I’ve started to wonder, too.

“But, shit, Mace,” she says gently, “doesn’t it seem sort of selfish? You give only as much as you’re willing. Luckily this time, Sean is happy with the scraps.”

I sit back in my chair. “My goodness,” I say. “Tell me what you really think.”

She chews on her lower lip, studying me. “Are you saying I’m wrong?”

I scrub my hands over my face, feeling more tired than I’ve been all week. “It’s not that simple, and you know it.”

Sabrina closes her eyes, breathing slowly in and then out. Looking at me again, she says gently, “I know, honey. The thing is . . . you’re pretending like you can just walk away from Elliot. Can you? And if not, what are you doing staying engaged to another man?”

“I know, I know,” I say, feeling a simmering in my stomach.

Her expression softens. “Don’t you just want to see where it could go with Elliot? The worst thing that could happen is it doesn’t work and he’s not in your life anymore.” She leans back in, saying more quietly, “You know you can survive that. At least, minimally.”

I spin my fork on the table.

“What’s keeping you with Sean?”

I know she wants a serious answer, but I’m just done with the intensity of this conversation. “His place is so convenient.”

She lets out a barking laugh that actually startles Viv in her sleep. “They’re fluffing your pillows in hell, Macy Lea Sorensen.”

“I don’t think one gets pillows in hell,” I say, smiling back at her. “And I’m kidding. I’m just having a hard time trusting these new doubts, because a few weeks ago I was perfectly happy with Sean. What if this is a blip?”

She lets out a skeptical “Mm-hmm.”

I blink up to her. “Come on.”

“You come on. You know I’m right. Sean is easy, I get it. He’s a cactus and Elliot is an orchid. I get that, too. Just . . .”

“Just what?”

“Just don’t be a testicle about this,” she says. Sabrina hates using pussy to mean weak, especially after birthing her ten-pound baby the old-fashioned way. “When you think about kissing Elliot, what does it make you feel?”