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“A lot. I started it when I moved back here.”

“And you haven’t told anyone?”

“No. And please don’t let this get out. If I never finish it, I’ll feel like a failure.”

“Your secret’s safe with me. Thank you for trusting me with this,” I said, leaning onto my arms on the table.

Xander sat down across from me, but neither of us reached for our forks.

I tried to control my goofy grin, watching him nervously stare at the woodgrain on the table.

“I can’t believe you haven’t even told Abigail this. ”

A grin slowly stretched across his face. “Well,” he said, settling back into his chair some more. “I want to surprise her with the finished manuscript. I’ve had this goal in the back of my mind to complete it by her birthday and give it to her as a gift.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut.

Xander Pierce would never be able to give me his whole heart, because it belonged to someone else.

He could deny it until he turned blue in the face, but his eyes told a different story.

I heard it in the way his voice softened when he spoke her name.

He would never let me in the way he already had with her.

Just as soon as I realized I couldn’t compete with Abigail, it struck me that I really didn’t want to, anyway.

“Wow, what a sweet gesture.” My words carried just a hint of sarcasm, but it was enough to catch Xander’s attention. His smile faded when he realized the implications of what he’d just said.

“Jill, wait—”

“What a thoughtful gift.” The sarcasm wasn’t subtle anymore.

“Jillian. Please,” he said, closing his eyes in frustration. “Don’t be jealous of Abigail. It’s—”

“You are in love with her,” I spit out.

Xander muttered under his breath, shaking his head. “For fuck’s sake…” He dragged a hand down his face, then dropped it onto the table with a quiet thud. “That’s not what this is. Abigail’s just a friend. That’s it.”

I crossed my arms against my chest. Did he really believe the words coming out of his mouth, or was he just hoping I’d believe the lie? I fought the urge to mutter the word “bullshit” in his face, hoping instead he’d come to the realization on his own.

But he didn’t.

“Look,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re not the first woman to have an issue with my closeness to Abigail, and you sure as hell won’t be the last.”

The second the words tumbled out of his mouth, his whole expression changed.

Panic. Pure, immediate panic.

His eyes widened, and he dropped his gaze to his lap in shame. For a moment, neither of us spoke. Because we both knew those words signaled the end. I’d never seen this man blush, not once; but his cheeks were tinged pink with humiliation.

I needed him to look at me. “Xander,” I said, my voice just above a whisper.

Tears burned at the edges of my vision, and I wished like hell they’d go away.

The last thing I wanted was for him to see how much this was breaking me.

But the sorrowful look in his eyes told me he already knew.

My voice quivered as I spoke my next words.

“Look me in the eye and tell me you’re not in love with her. ”

He didn’t look away.

But he didn’t answer, either. Every second that dragged by felt longer than the last, and the only sound I could hear was my own pulse pounding in my ears. I wanted him to deny it, and I needed him to say it with such conviction I could actually believe it. Please , I silently begged him.

His shoulders sagged, and his eyes briefly flitted down to the table before finding mine again. “I… I’m sorry.”

A strange feeling came over me. It was like all the stress and panic I was holding inside spread out and escaped my body through my fingertips. I wasn’t feeling a sharp stab of betrayal or the weight of rejection.

It was relief.

He wasn’t trying to feed me some half-hearted excuse or forcing out a denial neither of us would believe. He was telling the truth.

And the tiny fracture in my heart wasn’t just from the blow I’d just been dealt. It wasn’t just about me.

It was for him.

For the man sitting in front of me, looking utterly wrecked. For the boy who had spent decades loving the same girl, maybe without even realizing it. Maybe fighting it. Because for whatever reason, she would not—or could not—reciprocate.

There wasn’t a cell in my body that hated him for this.

“It’s okay,” I said, and I meant it. I blinked the tears away. “I mean, I think we’re done here. Obviously.” I let out a chuckle that probably sounded a little too casual. He lifted one eyebrow in confusion.

“Yeah…”

I picked up my fork. “Can we just… eat?”

He looked like he’d rather melt through his chair and disappear altogether.

“Sure.” But he didn’t reach for his utensils or scoot his chair closer to the table.

He watched me in silence as I cut into one of my pierogies, which was practically room temperature now.

After a minute, I stood up to pour us both a glass of iced sweet tea, forgetting how he’d once told me I put an “ungodly” amount of sugar in it.

He took a sip anyway, cautiously staring at me over the brim of his glass.

“What do we do now?” he asked, holding the glass between both hands on the table.

“Just go back to the way things were, I guess,” I said, swallowing a bite of asparagus. “I hope it won’t make things awkward on Friday nights. Having exes within the friend group, y’know.”

Xander rolled his eyes. “Owen seems to handle it okay.”

I looked up in curiosity. “Wait, what?”

“He and…. actually, never mind. It’s his secret, not mine. I assumed you knew,” he said, raising his glass to his lips again.

“Come on! You can’t just drop some slutty Owen Gardner lore without giving me the full story,” I joked.

Xander choked on his tea, spitting some back into his glass. “Sorry, I can’t,” he said, wiping his mouth. We both laughed, and in that moment, I knew we were going to be okay. There was no animosity between us.

This might have been the most mature break-up of my life.

We finished our lukewarm meal, talking about his novel, the cow catastrophe on Persimmon Road, and the upcoming trip to New York. On the porch, we exchanged a friendly goodbye hug that felt like a reset.

We were back to the old us. Friends. Colleagues who just happened to know what the other one looked like naked.

He picked his helmet up from the concrete ledge. Holding it by his side, he turned to me and asked, “What are you going to tell people? I don’t want anyone to know I…”

I didn’t have to say it. “We just want different things.”

That answer seemed to satisfy him. With a simple nod, he turned and left. The second his motorcycle pulled away from my curb, I went back into the house and scrambled for my phone to text Meghan.

Jill: So… I just ended things with Xander.

Meghan: Oh my God. Are you ok?

Jill: I’m fine. Truly. Least messy break-up of my life. I think he and I are going to be able to remain friends after this.

Meghan: Wow.

Meghan: I’m… happy for you? I think?

Jill: Thanks

Jill: By the way, have you ever hooked up with Owen Gardner without telling me?

Meghan: Um, no? Not for a lack of trying.

Jill: Then he’s either been with Kendall or Abigail.

Meghan: How has this little chaotic mess of a friend group not self-imploded already?

Jill: We’re all just really mature.

Meghan: lol