She was much better off than she could have been, she knew. Plus, she had a pretty fucking awesome kid.

SIX DAYS LATER, Fizzy whined plaintively into her fancy headset: “This setup doesn’t feel the same.”

Jess looked at Fizzy’s glowering image over Zoom on her iPad. “Well, it’s the best you get. You said you didn’t want to go back.”

“I know, but… don’t you miss Daniel?”

“And good coffee and reliable Wi-Fi?” Jess replied. “Yes, of course I do.”

Other things Jess missed:

Her boyfriend.

Her good mood.

The ten thousand dollars that had been in her checking account a few days ago.

The possibility that her mother would change.

Fizzy growled again and disappeared from view as, Jess presumed, she left to make herself another cup of mediocre coffee.

Three things Fizzy reminded her of constantly now that they’d stopped going to Twiggs:

1. She hated drip coffee but was too lazy to get even a basic Nespresso.
2. Her Wi-Fi sucked.
3. The lack of people-watching killed her meet-cute mojo.

But even though Jess’s coffee was also less satisfying than a Twiggs flat white, and she had a hard time focusing on work at her dining table, she couldn’t find it in herself to go back to Twiggs and pretend like there weren’t a million memories imprinted on every scuffed surface. Twiggs was where she met River, where she first got the notification from DNADuo, where she saw him last, and—most importantly—where she absolutely did not want to risk running into him at 8:24 on a weekday morning.

Though to be totally frank, it might be harder if Jess found out that he wasn’t going to Twiggs at all anymore, either. That he’d erased every bit of their shared history completely.

And it wasn’t like Fizzy was genuinely pushing to go back. Rob had spread his gross cheater vibes all over their table before Fizzy doused him with ice water. God, Twiggs had been tainted by the ghosts of their carefree former selves. The ones who, two months before, happily ogled Americano, gossiped with impunity, hadn’t had their hearts broken. Jess missed those women.

But working from home wasn’t all bad. Jess was saving money and might even lose a few pounds without her daily intake of blueberry muffins. She could work at home with her screen door open, wearing a T-shirt and no pants because it was warm outside and no pants beat pants every time. She could be at Nana Jo’s side in twenty seconds (after putting on pants) if needed.

Jess and Fizzy pretended they were sitting at the table together; they’d tried to actually work together in person, but they’d ended up on the couch watching Netflix after about a half hour. Zoom was better for deadlines.

Her phone dinged on the table, and she glanced down at the Wells Fargo notification just as Fizzy returned.

Fizzy settled in her seat and adjusted her screen. “What’s that expression?”

“Probably my mom’s bank accepting the—” Jess paused, and bent to look closer. A chill ran through her. “Um, no. This is me reacting to ten thousand dollars being deposited into my account.”