Jules looked at the two words as if they weren’t English. When it came to her feelings for Vivian, “no” and “sex” didn’t belong next to each other. Everything Vivian had described to Jules sounded wonderful: companionship, care, prioritizing each other. It called to her as nothing ever had in any other relationship.

However, all of this had been kick-started by Jules’s lust for Vivian on New Year’s Eve. She couldn’t just will that away, and why should she? Jules liked sex. It had been the best part of her relationship with Chelsea, the only reason they’d stayed together for four months. She liked the physical closeness, the sense of connection, and she wanted that in her life. Just because she was wild about Vivian in other ways didn’t mean she was okay with being celibate at nearly twenty-six.

Her phone pinged with another text. She groaned.

It was Simon. He’d sent her a text that was just four green-faced nausea emojis. Then he followed it up.

Sorry you’re sick. Got everything you need?

Aw. Jules smiled. No, she didn’t have everything she needed, and she wasn’t sure she’d be able to get it, but it was nice of him to ask. She replied:

I’m good, thanks ♥

OK. Feel better soon.

Jules sent the thumbs-up emoji, propped her chin on her hand, and regarded her phone. Simon was kind to reach out, but every time her phone had alerted her this morning, she’d hoped it was Vivian. She knew it wouldn’t be—Vivian was giving her space—but it was weird not to communicate with her. Even during the weekends, texts would fly back and forth between them.

Jules missed her.

“Ugh, get it together,” she muttered. “It’s been, like, two hours.”

What about my family?

What, indeed? Jules’s parents were already afraid Vivian was up to no good with Jules. It wouldn’t matter that Vivian was proposing a relationship entirely devoid of sex, much less sexual predation. They’d still say Vivian was exploiting her, and they’d think Jules was nuts even for considering it.

They might be right. She looked at the last item. On a list of questions that seemed impossible to answer, this one was the hardest.

What do I want?

She was young. Free. She had ambition. That last part had killed her previous relationship. How would a relationship survive when both parties were workaholics, to say nothing of having a child in the mix? Something would have to give, and what would that be? It might be something Jules wasn’t willing to surrender.

Everyone always said to go with your gut instead of your head or heart. The gut, they said, never lies. But what if Jules’s gut was just as confused as the rest of her?