Darius popped his head in. “Oh, sweetie,” he said, and Josh sort of transferred Jen to her husband. Should he leave? He should. Even if it was his bedroom. Pebbles was on the bed, but what the hell. Josh had to get out of the room before he broke.

He went into the half bath and took a couple of breaths. He’d never have to relive this night again. Just get through it, he told himself, but his composure, thin as it was, was cracking.

Try to be normal, loser. Lauren’s voice.

He nodded. Splashed water on his face. Looked at himself in the mirror.

It was a lonely face if ever there was one. Lauren had always told him he was a handsome guy, and yes, women had always sought him out or looked at him twice (see Exhibit A, Creepy Charlotte). He could see traces of his mother—strong bones and wide-set eyes. But his mother’s eyes were blue, and his were brown. Like the man who fathered him, Josh supposed. Whoever that was.

Back to the kitchen. Sarah was cutting up carrots and celery and had found some hummus. Not exactly glamorous, but not bad, either. Ken was leaning on the counter, arranging the vegetables on a plate.

Fuck. Josh would have to make conversation, wouldn’t he?

“So, Ken,” he said. “What do you do for work?”

“I’m in sales for a nutrition company.”

“Cool. Uh, how did you meet Sarah?”

“Online, right, babe?”

“It’s a little early for babe, isn’t it?” Sarah asked mildly.

“Sorry!” Ken said. “I’m jumping the gun a little. Because she’s great, isn’t she? Josh, do you mind if I ask how much this place cost you? I’m looking for a new apartment myself.”

Josh hated talking about money. “Uh, well, it was a few years ago, so the market was different.”

“I hear you, Josh, I hear you. Half a mil, maybe?”

“Sounds about right.”

“Any more places available in this building?”

Oh, Jesus. Don’t move in here. He didn’t want to have to talk to anyone. Creepy Charlotte was bad enough. “Most are one- or two-bedroom units. We got the only three-bedroom, though, because, uh, I work from home, so one bedroom is my office.” The study, Lauren insisted on calling it. It was classier, she’d said.

They’d had sex in that study. More than once. Had they really been as happy as he remembered? As it seemed? Could any couple be that perfect together?

“Sorry, what?” He realized he’d missed out on some conversation.

“No problem, Josh, no problem. You’re still grieving. I understand, man. It’s not easy. Takes time.” Ken took a swig of wine.

“Did you lose someone, too?” Sarah asked, looking up from the chopping. Josh was wondering the same thing.