31. Date

Elena’s Maya has this laugh that fills a room. Always has. Since we were young and she convinced me to sneak out of my parents’ house through a bathroom window, that laugh has been the thing that makes everything feel lighter. Easier. Like whatever is happening can’t be that serious if Maya is laughing about it. She’s laughing now, and I haven’t even gotten to the hard part yet. “Wait.” She holds up one hand, the other pressed flat to her chest like she’s trying to keep her heart from escaping. “Jaxon. Jaxon asked you out.” “Maya—” “Jaxon? Hot sexy therapist- Jaxon with the broad shoulders.” “Please don’t—” “Elena.” She grabs my wrist across the kitchen island, her nails a perfect deep burgundy against my skin. “Girl. The man is gorgeous. Like, offensively attractive. Like he should be on a billboard somewhere making women drive into telephone poles.” I pull my wrist back gently and wrap both hands around my coffee mug. It’s warm. I need something to hold onto. “He asked me

32. Saturday

Elena The restaurant he chose is rooftop — open sky, string lights strung low enough that they feel close, the city laid out below like it’s been arranged specifically for tonight. Small tables, only eight of them, spaced far enough apart that if other people were here, the nearest couple would be just a blur of candlelight and soft voices. The kind of place where nobody watches you because everyone came here to not be watched. I smooth the front of my dress and pick up the menu. I tell myself I’m fine. I am mostly fine. The food comes and it’s extraordinary — lamb in a sauce I can’t name but want to memorize — and the wine is cold. The night air carries just enough bite that I’m glad I brought a wrap. Jaxon sits across from me looking like he was designed to ruin a woman’s concentration. Dark shirt, sleeves pushed to the forearm, that particular effortlessness that requires a certain confidence to pull off. I noticed it the second he picked me up and I’ve been quietly managing t

33. Rules

Jaxon Elena walked in wearing green. Not the kind of green that disappears into a room — deep, fitted. Whether she meant it or not, every time that door opened, I looked forward to see what she was wearing and my whole chest tightens every time like someone had cinched a belt around it. I didn’t say anything about it. I didn’t say anything about Saturday either. I was scared she’d admit she didn’t mean it if I brought it up. I couldn’t afford for that to be true. Not yet.She sat down across from me the way she always did, knees together, hands twisting at each other, restless. I noticed. I notice everything. You don’t survive as long as I have in this life by missing the small things.“So, um.” She cleared her throat. “How does this work?”“How does what work, Elena?” She looked up at me. “You and I.”“Well.” I leaned back in my chair, unhurried. “First off, if this is going to work, we’re going to need some ground rules.”“Rules?” Her brows pulled together.“Yes.” I kept it s

34. Hesitation

Elena Maya shows up at twelve-fifteen, same as always, two bags of takeout swinging from her wrist and that look on her face that means she already knows something’s up before I’ve said a word. “Thai or the salad place,” she says, dropping into the chair across from my desk. “I got both because I couldn’t decide for you.” “You never decide for me. You just bring both.” “It’s called options, Elena.” She slides the Thai container across the desk because she knows it’s the one I actually want. “Now eat and talk. You’ve got that face.” “What face?” “The face.” She points a fork at me. “The one that says something happened and you’re trying to figure out how to bring it up without me losing my mind.” I don’t even try to deny it. I tell her. All of it. Maya’s chopsticks freeze halfway to her mouth. “He stopped?” “He stopped.” “On purpose?” “Mhmm,” I murmur my mouth full. “On purpose.” I stab at my noodles, more annoyed than I want to admit. “I went home and I was so —” I search

35. Second chance

Elena A subtle knock on my door jolts me from my thoughts immediately. I barely have time to think of who it might be, before assuming it’s a maid and going to open the door. I’m surprised when I find Marcus at the other end. A frown makes its way on to my face instantly. “How can I help you?” I ask, standing by the door and refusing to let him in. “Can we talk, please? Inside.” He asks. I hesitate. Whatever he has to say, he can say it here. It’s his fault we’re leaving like this. A married couple sleeping in separate rooms because the husband couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. Maya was right. I really should get these people out of my house. I honestly have no idea why I hesitate every time I think about it. It’s not money. I have money. From my inheritance. Even the amount I had saved up from when I used to model. I’d be more than fine if Marcus and I get a divorce. So, why the hell haven’t I filed for one? “We can talk here. Make it fast.” “I’d prefer not to

36. Need

Elena “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage our next showcase. An exclusive preview of emerging and returning talent in contemporary design and fashion. Put your hands together as we continue tonight’s show!”The applause from the other side of that curtain sounds like a different world entirely.I’m standing backstage in a slip of fabric that qualifies as a corset set. Deep wine red, boned through the waist, Maya’s own design — with my arms folded across my stomach and my eyes doing a full sweep of every model in this room. There are maybe fifteen of us back here. All of them, every single one look like they were assembled specifically for this. Long legs, cheekbones that look like they could cut glass, the kind of walk-ready posture that looks effortless but takes years.There are plus size girls here too. Beautiful ones. Bold, radiant, completely at home in themselves and their bodies.And still somehow, looking at every single one of them, I feel like I showed up