Page 69 of The Life-Changing Magic of Falling in Love

Oh. That’s sweet. ‘I do want to,’ I tell him. ‘I do, it’s just that?—’

It was just that what? Why am I not throwing the catch on the door and jumping on him? Why am I not taking him by the hand, whispering in his ear that I “know a place” and walking up the stairs to my apartment which is right above this place?

That’s when it hits me. He doesn’t even know where I live. I don’t even know where he lives. We go out to dinner once, twice a week. Sometimes a movie as well. And we talk. Easy talk. Fun talk.

Definitely no talk about business loans.

Or Sarah’s sister’s wedding.

Or Sarah.

‘Hey,’ Zach says. ‘I don’t want to add extra drama. I’m good with casual and taking things slow.’

I swallow. That’s the second time tonight he’s mentioned not being a fan of “drama”. ‘How about on our next date we plan on going back to your place afterwards?’ I find myself saying.

‘Yeah? You like plans, huh?’

I feel my nose wrinkle as I bat my eyelashes at him. ‘They have their advantages.’ I mean, it’s been a while since I’ve felt spontaneous… Worrying you’re one step away from an anxiety attack tends to remove that ability. As does exhaustion in an intern role where your main skill is to demonstrate you’ll do anything, anytime, because you’re indispensable and available to move into a permanent job role the moment you’re asked. But that was before I was so busy being spontaneous at work that I forgot to check my phone for messages and missed the fact that my best friend was lying in hospital dying.

‘I can work on getting the place to myself for the evening,’ Zach murmurs. ‘The guys owe me anyways, especially when I put these bad boys on the fridge door,’ he adds, holding up the paper bag containing the pickle magnets.

‘That’s right … you said you share with three others?’

‘Yeah. You must share as well but maybe it would be easier at yours?’

‘Except my bed is in the living room,’ I automatically answer.

What? Technically it is and I don’t want to have to deal with telling him why I don’t sleep in the bedroom that now stays empty down the hall. Not here when Carlos or Oz could walk back in at any moment.

I’ve been wanting to feel lighter, haven’t I?

This would be good for me. It’s okay to move forward with my life again and with Zach there’s this uncomplicated pull. ‘Organise your housemates to go out for the evening next week,’ I whisper, aiming for what I hope is a super-sexy and confident smile.

Suddenly the bakery door is thrust open and Carlos is standing inside with the biggest wounded-bear look on his face. ‘I lost him,’ he declares, slamming the bakery door shut behind him.

‘What?’ I must sway because I feel Zach’s arm come around me. All I can hear is another voice in another time. Sarah’s mother, Shelley-Ann, saying over and over, ‘We lost her. We lost her.’

‘I thought I was fast,’ Carlos says as he sinks down onto a chair, ‘but apparently, Oz can run faster. Shit.’ He puts his head in his hands and I snap out of the past as everything in me wants to wrap my arms around my friend like I couldn’t wrap my arms around Sarah’s mother.

I think about how my life is filling up again and how hard it is to leave Sarah behind.

I think about how I want these new friends to become old friends and that the only way that’s going to happen is if I invest.

I’m already invested, I realise, because I hate seeing Carlos upset like this.

‘Go,’ I whisper to Zach.

‘You’re sure?’

‘I’m sure,’ I say with a nod and a quick kiss to Zach’s cheek. ‘Let me know what night next week, okay?’

When it’s just me and Carlos again, I flip over the sign to say “Closed” and then head over to the coffee machine. I start pushing levers, pulling knobs and waving a coffee cup under various openings until I hear Carlos sigh, and get up to walk over and rescue me, or, at least, the machine.

‘I can’t afford for you to break this,’ he says, nudging me out of the way. ‘Go sit down, I’ll bring us two.’

‘Unless you want the really good stuff?’ I ask, heading over to one of the corner tables. ‘I know where Oz keeps the liquor.’

‘You do?’

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