Page 112 of The Girlfriend Zone

This mural feels like a quiet echo of that moment. Maybe it’s a sign too. Have I been looking for one all along?

Everly glances at me, her expression curious but patient. She’s always had a way of knowing when something’s on my mind.

“How did you manage it?” I ask abruptly.

She furrows her brow. “Manage what?”

“The way you felt about Max…and your job.”

Everly pauses, then smiles softly. “It wasn’t easy.”

I exhale, the weight of her honesty hitting me. “Yeah, that’s the impression I’m getting.”

She sips her London Fog latte. Then she says, “He sent me these every day. He brought them to work. Then to my home. It’s a little thing, but it added up. I needed to know what I was fighting for, you know?”

Do I even know that yet? My throat tightens unexpectedly. “Some days, everything feels so tangled up,” I admit quietly. “The way I worry about the future. The present. My family. My goals.”

She nods, her voice steady. “It’s always tangled. It’s never easy. Everything is a choice. All you can do is make the best ones and know your friends will have your back.”

I swallow hard, my heart tightening with unspoken fears. But I manage a small smile. “Cheese alert: I’m so glad we became friends.”

“Me too.” Everly throws her arms around me in a warm hug.

As we return to work on the calendar, she grins at me. “You know, complicated is my middle name.”

I laugh, the tension in my chest easing for now. Butlater when I’m on the bus heading toward the Marina, questions swim up—what happens when Miles returns late tonight? I’m supposed to go. We even planned for me to go when we set up this arrangement in the first place. We figured I’d leave a few hours before he returned. That will make it easier, we’d both said.

To avoid temptation and all.

But are we still avoiding it?

I don’t have the answer to that question as the evening rolls on. As I straighten up, all I know is that I should leave in a little while since he’s due home in a few more hours.

I’m making sure towels are hung properly in the bathroom when my phone pings with a notification from the front door cam. A delivery arrives—grocery bags. After the delivery guy leaves, I head to the door and grab the goods so I can put them away before Miles returns tonight.

A proper dog-sitter task will be good for me. It’ll remind me why I’m here—putting things away, taking care of the home and the creatures in it. But there’s a note attached to one of them with my name on it. They’re not just for him? My heart skips a beat as I open the bag and find a note tucked inside:

For when I cook for you.

It’s presumptuous. Cocky, even. But it’s also so wonderful that my pulse soars. All the floaty feelings return, flooding every cell in my body. So much for a dog-sitter task. This feels like a task for a?—

I stop myself before my mind dares to say other words.One other word, really. That starts with a G.

But I can’t fight off the smile that pulls at my lips as I text him:Can’t wait to see what you whip up in the kitchen.

Then I add one more sentence—For us.

The giddy haze stays with me a little while as I unpack the groceries—artichokes, hearts of palm, mushrooms, tofu, asparagus, pasta—all the things I love. He really did shop for me. There’s even a bottle of wine—white, of course. A Riesling that’s so light and pretty my mouth waters.

That lovely feeling turns into something else. Something warm, something safe as I settle onto the couch, pick up a photography book and slide under a fleece blanket that’s like a magnet for the pack. Soon, the heat from four small animals burrowing under the cover with me warms me from the inside out.

The words and images blur on the page as my mind drifts to the locket, to that one perfect day, then to all the days I’ve spent with him since.

And the nights too.

Like this night when he sent me groceries, and I hardly feel like I should leave anymore. I close my eyes and drift into sleep until there’s a click of the door at the edge of my dreams.

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