“I love Paul.”

Alex let out a noise of frustration, somewhere between a groan and a yelp. “Mom, that’s not the point. You have never once, not in my entire career, called me because a video was going viral, but now you’re magically interested. And I know it’s because the video means I’m not going to run off into the sunset with some perfect, rich guy. Now my work is worth calling about.”

“Alex,” her mother started, pained, “can we switch to FaceTime? I want to see you.”

“No,” she asserted, rather pathetically, wiping under her eyes. “I’m fine.”

“Baby, I know you’re not fine.” Alex could hear the tears welling up in her mother’s voice, that familiar sympathetic crying. It was part of the reason Alex had worked so hard at becoming the kind of person who didn’t cry: because it always became a family affair. “Where are you right now?”

With every exit point effectively barricaded, Alex finally answered honestly, offering her mother the truth all at once so there was no place left to pry.

“I’m in Corfu. In Greece. I had a horrible fight with Danial last night about the video, okay? So I got a hotel for a few nights to clear my head, and then I’m meeting everyone at the wedding. Now you have the whole story.”

“Lexi, honey,” her mother started, assuming a familiar tone of financial concern, “are you sure paying for a hotel is a good idea right now?”

“Jesus Christ!” Alex shouted, the Greek men at the table behind her rustling enough for her to instantly drop back into a harsh whisper. “I am thirty-two years old. I do not need to explain my budget to anyone, okay? So stop asking.”

“Well,” her mother volleyed back, “I wouldn’t worry so much if you weren’t determined to push everyone away.” Alex suddenly remembered that her dad was also on the call, a silent observer.

“You mean I push men away.”

“Well that’s part of it, sure.”

There it was. The unacknowledged reality that underpinned nearly every one of their conversations. There was an invisible clock ticking somewhere just out of frame, one labeled marriage and babies, and it grew louder with every passing year.

“I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can,” Elena pushed back, “But marriage—” she corrected herself, “partnership makes things a little easier. Even just financially!”

Out of rage, out of disappointment in herself, Alex hissed, “Really? How is marriage working out for you, financially?”

“How dare you.” Her mother sounded genuinely shocked at her daughter’s audacity, and mildly disgusted. “Your father is the best thing to ever happen to me.”

Alex could hear him quietly saying his wife’s name in the background, an effort to calm her down.