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“More than enough, considering I’ve been a train wreck on all of them, including tonight.”

“Bryce?” Monica asked.

“You don’t have to tell me how stupid it is to still be thinking about her. I am well aware. I’m trying, Mon. I’ve watched you and Bridgette move in together, and you seem so happy working together, too. I also helped Mel move into Kyle’s house, whichis now their house, and I’m so happy for all of you. I want that, too, trust me. I’m nottryingto hold on to this.Itholds on tome. It makes me feel like I can’t move on until I somehow find her again and learn she was married when we met and has six kids or something.”

Monica laughed and said, “That’s a lot of kids.”

“Maybe she wasn’t married then, but she could be on her way now, you know? It’s been a year. She probably forgot all about me, met someone, and they’re moving in together as we speak, eating cold pizza off of boxes, and sleeping on an air mattress because they’re waiting for their new bed to arrive at their perfect little house in their perfect suburban neighborhood.”

“You’ve thought a lot about this, haven’t you?” Monica asked.

“I think about her every damn day.”

“Soph, I think you’ve made more of the night than it was. I don’t mean to say that it wasn’t an important night or that Bryce wasn’t great. It’s just that sometimes, we reimagine things the way wewantthem to be. We add things to them that didn’t really happen, and someday, we start actually believing that those things have occurred.”

“Are you suggesting I imagined that we kissed?”

“No,” Monica replied. “Notthat, specifically. Just that maybe it’s taken on this larger-than-life part in your mind, and because of that, you can’t move on from it.”

“I’m trying, Monica.”

“I know you are.” Monica paused before adding, “Hey, what are you doing tomorrow night? Want to come over here and have dinner? I have good wine, and we’ve got almost all the boxes unpacked now. You can sit on dining room chairs at a table. No eating cold pizza on boxes.”

“Maybe,” she said. “Can I let you know? I might have to work late tomorrow.”

“No problem,” her friend replied before they disconnected.

Monica recently left Arnette Assets to join Bridgette’s greeting card company full-time, but she’d officially quit Arnette nine months prior and had remained on as a consultant until her father had retired a month ago. She’d also been unofficially working with Bridgette the entire time, and now, they adorably shared a homeandan office while Sophie lay on her sofa in her small apartment alone, wondering about the soft dark hair of the perfect soft butch she’d loved and lost all in one night.

She thought about the line in the movieTitanicwhen Rose told everyone in the present day that she never even had a picture of Jack. That was exactly how Sophie felt now. She didn’t even have a picture of Bryce. She’d had a phone. It had a camera. Why hadn’t she snapped a quick selfie and, at the same time, suggested they exchange numbers just in case? That thought haunted her every single day.

She hadn’t ever gotten up the courage to ask Monica about a job. Monica’s year had been a busy one already. She had moved her son into college, moved from Manhattan to New Orleans, and quit the job she’d had her entire life and future job as CEO she’d been about to take. She’d also started a relationship with Bridgette, joined the company here, and just recently, they moved in together, even though Bridgette probably hadn’t spent a single night at her own apartment in months.

God, Sophie wanted that. Well, she wanted a new job too, and she’d still been trying, but luck just hadn’t been on her side. She’d been rejected from well over a hundred companies, gone on over twenty interviews for remote jobs and a few for local ones, and there were jobs that were neither local nor remote that she’d applied for, but when push came to shove, she knew she wouldn’t take a job that required her to move. Not only did shelove where she lived and the new friends she’d gained here, she had her family to think about. It was also true thatBryceknew she livedhere. If Sophie ever moved, that would be the end.

She’d gone to the bar where they’d met at least once a week for a year now. Sometimes, twice a week, and one time, every night in one week. She’d order a drink and sit on that sofa waiting as if, at that exact moment, Bryce, too, would have gotten that idea and would show back up. Of course, that would mean that the woman still thought about her, and Sophie needed to get it into her mind that that just wasn’t the situation. She needed to move the hell on.

CHAPTER 8

“Why did you do this?” Sean asked as she stared at her phone.

“Do what?”

Sean turned her phone to face her, showing Bryce her blog post.

“Oh. Well, you all didn’t seem to want to hear me talk about it anymore.You, in particular, didn’t want me to talk about it anymore.”

“So, you put it out there into the world like this?” Sean turned the phone back to herself and read from the blog, “I’ve never believed in love at first sight, but Sophie made my heart race, my toes tingle, my brain unable to form thoughts, and my mouth unable to say words at times. Is that love at first sight? It feels wonderful, confusing, terrifying, and exciting, and I miss it. I miss her. I miss my Sophie, who will never know that for one night, I was the happiest human on the planet. I still picture taking her to dinner, holding her hand as we walk the city at night, and I still look for her online almost daily.” Sean finished quoting Bryce’s own words to her and looked up at her. “You knew her for, like, three hours.”

“I knew in three seconds,” Bryce stated. “But you don’t believe me, so why are we even talking about this?”

“Bryce, we were together for two years,” Sean said. “I know you. I know you don’t believe in this crap.” She set the phone down on the table between them.

“And I said as much in the blog, in the very section you just read out loud to me.”

“Yet, spending just three hours a year ago, with some woman you barely even know, has you changing your mind?”

“Sean, leave it alone. I wrote it because I needed the outlet since you and Kelsey – and probably even Megan – are done listening to me, and my parents, whom I only just came out to, aren’t probably ready to hear the whole story. Thank God they don’t read my blog all that often.”