Page 19 of Extra Thick

“I know,” I say quietly. It really is extraordinary to see Alden’s new paintings on display like this. It’s like they aren’t even individual artworks anymore—they’re a single story, a single truth.

Behind us, Kristina’s heels come clacking across the concrete gallery floor.

“Good,” she says. “You’re finished. I’m going out to run a few errands. You two should take a lunch break.”

“Yes ma’am!” says Cory, already pulling me with him toward the door.

I know Cory’s enthusiasm partially stems from the forthcoming consumption of food: the boylovesto eat. But I also have a feeling that he wants to get me out of the gallery so I can tell him what’s stressing me out.

Sure enough, as soon as we’re a block away from the gallery, Cory nudges me hard with his elbow and says, “So? What’s up?”

I exhale a deep sigh. “I’m pretty sure Alden is going to leave. He’s been acting weird since last night.”

“Did something happen?” Cory asks, then steers me into a crosswalk with him. “Come on. I’m treating you to a bacon waffle.”

The promise of my favorite savory lunchtime treat usually makes my mouth water, but today, it barely has any effect. “You don’t have to treat me to anything, Cory.”

“Yes, I do. Now spill. What happened last night?”

“Nothing. When I got home, he was just acting…distant. Distracted. I don’t think anythinghappened, exactly. I think he’s just sick of being here and wants to go home.”

“He didn’t actually say that, though, right?”

“No. But it’s clear he feels that way.”

Cory gives me a wary look. “You aren’t changing your mind about going back with him, are you?”

I shake my head. “What would I even do if I lived up there with him?”

“I mean, I can think of a few things. Have his babies, become a mountain woman…”

I give Cory an unamused look. “Does that really sound like me?”

“It doesn’t have to sound like you. It just has to sound like something you’d want for your life. Do youwantto have his babies?”

My cheeks flare with heat. “I’m not answering that question.”

“Okay. That’s a yes.”

“What about my career?” I point out. “How am I supposed to open a gallery someday if I live on top of a mountain in the middle of the woods?”

“Oh, come on. Alden doesn’t live on thetopof a mountain. It’s not that dramatic.”

“Cory. You know what I mean.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Cory steps ahead of me as we make our way around a group of tourists crowding the sidewalk. Once we’re walking alongside each other again, he says, “Okay. Serious question. Imagine, ten years from now, that you either own the gallery of your dreams or you’re married to Alden. What scenario are you happier in?”

“Um…”

“Wait. Hold on.” Cory pulls me out of the way of the people walking behind us, tucking us into a little nook in front of—of all places—a fortune teller shop. “Close your eyes for a second. Really think about it, Sasha.”

I feel ridiculous, but I do it anyway. I close my eyes, imagine one future, then imagine the other.

The world overwhelms my vision when I open my eyes again.

“I’m happier with Alden,” I say.

Cory smiles at me knowingly, then grabs my hand and pulls me down the rest of the block to our destination. At this time of day, the waffle place is as crowded as always. I grab the last open table for us and Cory goes up to the counter to order our food. Despite not feeling like I have an appetite right now, my stomach growls when he comes back carrying our savory waffles.

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