Nick shook his head. “Dr. Kep thinks this has all changed who Freddie is to me, and that I have to mourn the old him before we can be anything new.”

“Dr. Kep is probably right,” I said to Nick. “And I know it bothers you that Freddie and I still hang out, but—”

“Did you ever consider it?” Nick blurted out.

“Consider what?”

Nick busied himself with retying one corner of the cushion to the chair’s metal frame. “Choosing him,” he said. “I know, I know, you didn’t, but you’ve never told me how hard you had to think about it.”

I looked at him for a second. “We said honesty, so okay, here goes,” I said. “Yes. I did consider it. You have to understand, it wasn’t about Freddie to me. It was more of me weighing, one last time, whether I thought the life that comes with you is one that I could live.”

“It wasn’t because any part of you loves him?” Nick sounded nervous.

“I didn’t say that. A part of me does love him,” I said. “All of me loves him, actually. He’s Freddie. I stopped getting to make new friends when you and I got serious. He filled that void for me.” I took Nick’s hand. “He’s not the brother I was willing to face the wrath of the world with, and he’s not the one I will write love letters about, which I’ll leave in Sex Den for some future generation to find. But in my own way, even if it’s not the way he wanted, I love him.”

“Dr. Kep thanks you in advance for the billable hours,” Nick cracked, but he wasn’t smiling.

“I’m not saying that to hurt you. But I am done dancing around how I feel.” I turned on my side to face him. “I miss my friend. I want to be able to see him without you thinking it means anything.”

Nick closed his eyes. “This is going to be hard.”

“It is,” I agreed. “But if we both back away, and then you realize you’re ready for him again, he might be too far gone for either of us.”

“You’re keeping my foot in the door, as it were,” he said.

“However you want to look at it.”

Nick stroked my cheek with his gloves. His fingers caught a strand of my hair, which became electrified with static.

“We always do have sparks,” he said teasingly.

A remote control landed hard in my lap. I emerged from my reverie to see Eleanor looking impatiently at me.

“Find something on TV that isn’t awful,” she said. “Richard made me watch a highlight reel of things I’d missed in Parliament. Can you imagine the torture?”

“I mean, you did tell him to fuck off,” I said.

“Language, Rebecca,” Eleanor said, horrified.

I clapped my hand over my mouth.