Her chin lifts in a move I’m coming to recognize as the one she uses when she’s getting stubborn. “Are you gonna get back together with her?”

“If I were, do you think I’d be itching to run away?”

She shrugs. “People always do things that don’t make sense when it comes to relationships.”

“I guess that’s true but the answer is no. No, I’m not going to get back together with her. I don’t think there’s anything she could do to change my mind. It will be a struggle to stay friends.” The words roll off my tongue with surprising ease, startling me with the fact that they taste like truth.

Even though we’ve been over as a couple for a month, I always thought she would be there, in some part of my life, because she always has been.

Maybe she will be a friend again, but right now, that future looks hazy at best.

Reese sits on the bed near the pillow, as far from me as she can get. “You guys were together a long time.” The words are soft, tentative.

“Too long, maybe.” I laugh without humor.

“It’s a big change.”

“It is,” I agree. “But at the same time, it’s not. Not really. Things between Abby and me . . . they’ve been changing for a while. I didn’t want to accept it at first. I was living in la-la land and she was living in . . . well, anywhere-but-with-me land, that’s for sure. I hate to say Annabel was right, but she’s been telling me for longer than I care to mention to cut Abby loose.”

“Annabel doesn’t believe in romance in general though.”

“This is very true.”

“And you do?”

I shrug. “My parents have been together since they were both knee high to a grasshopper, over twenty years.”

“That’s sweet.”

“They have this epic love story. So do my grandparents. They were married for sixty years, had a load of kids together, always acted like newlyweds, the whole nine yards. I always thought I would have the same thing.”

We’re silent for a few seconds while the rest of the house pulses in energetic revelry. “If your family is full of great relationships, then why does Annabel have such negative views on love and romance?”

“I have no idea. She’s always been a pessimist about that stuff, or as she likes to say, a realist.”

She nods and sits back a little on the bed, her tense shoulders relaxing a smidge. “My parents have a grand romance too. I can see why Annabel might see it as a detriment.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because they put their own desires above all else.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s difficult to explain.” She bites her lip, considering me for a second before continuing. “My parents are artists.”

I nod. “The Jacksons. Everyone knows about them. Most famous people in town, with the exception of ol’ Roy.”

“Right. They met at a show in New York City when they were in their twenties. They connected immediately. Got married within weeks of meeting each other. They’re both very passionate people. Passionate about their art and about each other—to the exclusion of everyone and everything else, including their children. I barely saw them growing up. Granny came to live with us after Grandpappy died, when I was ten. Before that, my older sister, Scarlett, basically raised me.”