I didn’t know if it was good. I didn’t even know if it was true. But it felt right. It felt like it was time.

I’d thought I was being careful, and maybe I was, but maybe I didn’t need to be so careful anymore. Maybe I could try something else.

She tried a few different things before one stuck.

‘Take care of each other, okay?’

Donna hesitated, then she nodded again. ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘Want a lift?’

MARCH, ONCE

MARCH, ONCE

The pamphlet didn’t tell me how weird it would feel, sitting in a circle with a bunch of strangers. The seats were the same ones I remembered from school, plastic, beige, like everything else. There were only eight people. I don’t know why but I’d expected more. I’d wanted more, to be able to sneak in the back and listen and convince myself that I was in the wrong place, because I was in the wrong place.

It was getting better. I had a job. I had a new place to live. Lina had stopped calling every day and clicking her tongue at me and telling me it would be okay.

But I still couldn’t shake it. I should have died. I’d been lucky but my luck was bound to run out eventually. It was what luck did. Every time I stepped out of my flat I thought about the hundred, thousand, different ways it could happen. My arm still hurt and it was probably cancer. The awnings along King Street were all rotting and ancient. Scaffolding could collapse at any minute. A driver could have a seizure and take me out as I walked down the street. It was inevitable. You didn’t dodge death twice. It always got you in the end.

I hadn’t gone to New York. In my bones, I knew I never would. I didn’t remember when I’d decided not to, but maybe I’d never intended to go, even before—maybe it had all been a fantasy.

You’re in a hell of a mood tonight, Nones.

I just hate Valentine’s Day.

It’s not Valentine’s Day anymore.

Still, look at this—we were passing a florist and I stopped, gesturing wildly at the red roses and teddy bears and love hearts in the window. I was slurring. Drunk. It’s fucking gross. It makes people stupid. Makes them spend stupid amounts of money on something that’s just going to fucking die anyway.

And then I’d been as stupid as any of them. More stupid.

I shook my head, not wanting to think about Dex. I’d been thinking about him too much. I’d never even liked him. I didn’t need him. Didn’t need anybody. I never had.

Paulie looked like a sitcom dad. He had a bigger belly than he should have and a big welcoming face.