But he wished she would say something.

“Ben. I . . .” She stopped.

Okay, well. That’s not what he wished she would say. Not “Ben” in that condescending, gentle way.

He picked up his pizza. There was nothing he wanted less than to eat it now.

“Never mind. I get it. It’s okay.”

She put her hand on his arm. He shook it off.

“Don’t,” he said. “Please.”

She didn’t say anything else.

Eventually, she got up and took the rest of the pizza down to the kitchen. He went to the bathroom, cursed at himself in the mirror, and was in bed by the time she came back into the room.

She turned off the light without saying anything and got in her side of the bed. Her bed was so big that they each had plenty of room. He’d never realized that before, since they’d always slept together in the middle. But now she was on her side, and he was on the other side, and no one reached across the center.

When he woke up the next morning, she was still asleep. He found his phone and turned off the alarm that was set to go off thirty minutes later, and got in the shower. If he was quiet enough, maybe he could shower and get dressed and leave before she even woke up. He felt like a coward even thinking that, but he just couldn’t face the pity that he knew would be in her eyes today.

But his luck had abandoned him. When he came out of the bathroom, her bed was empty, and he heard the unmistakable signs of coffee making from the kitchen. Okay. He could do this. He’d faced worse. He pulled his clothes on, threw all of his stuff into his overnight bag, and walked into the kitchen.

“Hey,” she said in a cheerful voice. “Florence got us pastries for this morning. I just heated them up in the toaster oven.”

She was going to pretend last night away. Thank God. The last thing he wanted was to have some sort of heartfelt “You’re really great, but” “I’m just not in a place for” “Don’t worry about me” kind of conversation with her. He’d had those before, lots of them. But he’d always been on the other side. He’d thought his side sucked. He’d had no idea.

“Oh, awesome, I’m starving,” he said. His voice even sounded normal to him. His car to the airport would be here in an hour; he could handle being like this for an hour. Once he left here, he was headed straight from the plane to his office, where he had so much work he had to do he wouldn’t have to think about this.

He picked up his mug and added the sugar she’d taken out of the cabinet for him. The coffee was strong, like her coffee always was, and today he needed that. He had to talk, to fill the silence for the next hour.

“Any more word from Simon since last night?” he asked.

Her face lit up.

“He’s sent me a ton of fantastic reviews of the movie, and specifically of me in the movie. And everyone loved my dress! Thank God, because I loved it, too, and I would have been insulted if anyone called it fugly this time.”

The toaster oven timer went off, and he took the pastries out of it. He needed something to do, so he wouldn’t think about that dress and her in it. And when he’d taken her out of it.

“Oh, that’s great,” he said. “I hope that means more good news is coming for you.” He inspected the plate of pastries. “Florence is an angel—ham and cheese croissant, cinnamon roll, and a raspberry Danish? Bless her.”

He picked up the raspberry Danish. He wanted the croissant, but he knew Anna would want that one.

They passed the next hour with conversation about the movie, that one actor who had gotten incredibly drunk the night before, and the ad campaign for sneakers he’d been working on. The pitch was coming up, and he was excited about it. Had been, anyway. He managed to act upbeat and relaxed the whole time—he was great at that.

Finally, there was a ring at the gate that meant Ben’s ride to the airport was there. Anna buzzed the driver through, and Ben picked up his bag.

“Thanks so much, Ben. For everything,” Anna said. “I couldn’t have made it through these past few weeks without you—I appreciate everything you did for me so much. I have no idea how I’ll ever be able to repay you.”

He grinned at her and shrugged.

“No repayment necessary. I had a blast. Do you have any idea how much my friends are freaking out about all of this? I’ll be able to start stories with “While I was dating Anna Gardiner . . .” for years to come. And my family is losing their shit. I had a great time. Good luck with the Varon film and everything else.”

She grinned back at him.

“Thanks, I’m keeping my fingers crossed. And, you know, I’m up in the Bay Area at least a few times a year to see my family; maybe sometime when I’m around, we could get together again, catch up.”

He started to say sure, that would be great, she should text him. But he couldn’t do it. He shook his head.

“I don’t think so, Anna. Take care of yourself.”

He turned and went out the door.

 

* * *

 

—

Anna stood, motionless, in her kitchen after the front door closed softly behind Ben.

What had just happened? Had Ben really said that last night? And then said what he’d said, just now?

Her heart was beating fast. She didn’t know how to react, how to think. She hadn’t expected that. She hadn’t expected anything like that.

No. She couldn’t think about this. This was too much.

She had enough to deal with right now, from putting her world back together and taking care of her mental health to fighting tooth and nail for her career to trying to take care of her parents from afar. She didn’t have space in her life or in her heart for one more thing. Ben knew that.

He hadn’t meant it. He couldn’t have. Ben wasn’t the type to fall in love—she knew that, they were very similar in that way. That was part of the reason she’d trusted him to do all of this in the first place; she knew he wouldn’t care when it was over!

She thought of that crushed, broken look on his face, right before he walked out the door.

No. No, she couldn’t deal with this.

She pulled off her pajamas, put on a swimming suit, and got in her pool. She tried not to think about Ben’s eyes when he’d seen her get out of the pool topless the day before.

She swam laps, back and forth and back and forth, to try to feel better, to forget what Ben had said, to get back into herself.

Her phone rang just as she finished getting dressed. At first, she ignored it. If it was Ben, she didn’t want to deal with it; if it was Simon, she could call him back.