“Don said she looks like a Leia, and don’t change the subject.” Annie prods me with her foot. “What’s so wrong with being partners with Nick?”

I shake my head quickly. “I’m not like you, Annie. I’m not like Don.”

“Thank goodness,” Annie says. “I love him, but I can only handle one Don.”

“I mean . . . it’s not that easy for me, having a relationship. I’m not the kind of person who can just be with someone. Depend on someone.”

Annie wrinkles her nose. “Do you think it’s easy for the rest of us?”

“Well . . . yeah.”

She laughs. “Um, do you remember the profound personal crisis I went through when Drew wanted to date me? I mean, I told him no. I thought it would never work out because he’s, you know, famous. I didn’t think I could be in a relationship with him.”

“Because you were living in your own rom-com.”

“Don got together with Tyler when he was in his midfifties, and it’s his first-ever relationship. Not that he would get into the details with me, but I’m sure it wasn’t easy for him to handle such a big shift.”

I nod. “Yeah, but you guys are . . . you know. Normal people.”

Annie lowers her voice. “Neither Don nor I are even remotely normal.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Actually, I don’t.”

“My life is a mess, Annie. I’m taking care of my dad and I’m not even doing that good a job. I should be happy Milo is in town, but instead I blew up at him and now we aren’t speaking. Everyone I know is rolling into their thirties with relationships and businesses and dream jobs and I’m working at a coffee shop while struggling to even get my bachelor’s degree. I’m exhausted and I’m making myself sick and I’m not going to subject Nick to this. I wanted to sleep with him more than anything, and trust me, I would do it again . . . but that’s not fair, because I’m not his problem. I shouldn’t make my life anyone’s problem.”

“Chloe!” Annie looks at me incredulously. “Is that what you assume other people think of you?”

“Um.” I think for a minute. “Yes?”

Annie shakes her head. “You’ve been baking pies for me for weeks. You’re driving yourself bonkers making tissue paper poms for my wedding. You’re helping me with my problems.”

“Those aren’t real problems, though,” I say. “No offense.”

Annie holds up her hands. “Talk to me when you’ve dipped a toe in the wedding industrial complex. You lose perspective on what’s a real problem.”

“I will never. But I like helping you. I like doing these things, because that’s what I do. I take care of things for other people. I don’t ask people to do things for me.”

“Why not?” Annie asks, and I pause. I think about it for a moment, then lean back against the couch arm.

“Maybe,” she says cautiously, “do you think if you ask people for anything, they won’t love you anymore?”