Chapter 28
Aubrey
Sunday Evening
Three Days After the Outing
Aubrey studies the row of succulents in her apartment to choose one for Kai. That his collection is octopuses makes her smile
in a way she hasn’t in a long time. She selects a cabbage-like green plant with pink tips and grabs her keys from the hook
by the door. She’s meeting Kai at Ilena’s. They live on opposite sides of the Seaport, him in South Boston and her in Cambridge,
and they each needed to change.
This Aubrey pays more attention to memes, if they have memes in this world. Not a single pair of skinny jeans in the closet.
Instead, each hanger holds a complete outfit, labeled with “Work: Mon-Thurs, Summer,” or “Work: Fridays, Winter,” or “Saturday
Casual,” or “Dinner Party,” and Aubrey is falling just a little bit in love with this world Aubrey. She slips into the “Dinner
Party: Summer” full skirt and linen short-sleeved button-down and feels nothing like herself and yet everything like herself.
As she steps into the common hallway, the hair on the back of her neck rises. Ethan. Clearly visible through the building’s glass front door.
“Aubrey,” he says loudly, gesturing to the doorknob.
She doesn’t move.
This seems to surprise him, and he raps gently, adding, “Your middle name’s Katherine, right?”
“Excuse me?”
He stands her up, refuses to go with her to Ilena’s, and now turns up asking about her middle name? He didn’t even know her
first name a couple of days ago.
He knocks the glass again. “Your middle name is on your website bio. But the other night, I neglected to mention mine.”
She hesitantly approaches the door, wondering what she was thinking by telling him where she lived.
“It’s Ass,” he says. “I’m an ass.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Deserved, hundred percent. You should have called me on it when you emailed. It hit me after I’d already pressed Send. We
had plans.”
“So that’s why you’re here? To explain? Or apologize? Because I haven’t heard either one yet.”
“I’d rather not do it through this thick glass. But I will.”
Aubrey stares at him before slowly opening the door. He slips inside and that hint of clove floats toward her.
“The sorry is easy. I’m sorry, Aubrey. There’s no world in which I’d ever hurt you.”
Aubrey’s stomach clenches. She can’t say the same.
“The explanation?” he says. “Well, our drinks date wasn’t in my calendar, and I’m pathetically dependent on that electronic
rectangle to run my life. Make that plural. Rectangles, one for work, one for personal, but I didn’t put our date in either
one.”
“That’s not my fault,” she says, even though she’s spent the past few weeks feeling like everything surrounding Ethan is her
fault.
“Actually it is. You were there. Right there, in fact.” He leans in. “This close. Remember, you, me, the Skee-Ball . . .”
That was where he’d kissed her, his lips on hers for the first time here but conjuring the thousands of times at home.
“Somehow . . .” His hand settles on her waist. “I was a little too distracted to grab my phone.”
Sweat gathers beneath the armpits of her linen shirt, and her body reacts before her mind, pressing against him. He pulls
back, and she realizes she’s being too forward. He can’t understand the intimacy she feels. But then his hand disappears into
the canvas messenger bag looped across his chest. When it surfaces, Aubrey’s lungs squeeze.
“You are somebody’s reason to smile.”
Lying flat on his open palm is a rock with a quote painted in yellow. There are no rocks with sayings on them in this Aubrey’s
apartment, not that Ethan has been in this Aubrey’s apartment. She’s positive she didn’t mention them on their date at the
arcade. If he did ever come here, saying she had a collection of painted rocks wouldn’t make any sense. And besides, she didn’t
want him to think she was saccharine or immature.
It’s a sign from the universe. This is right. She and Ethan are meant to be.
She leads him into her apartment and to the bed with its freshly washed sheets.
They arrive at Ilena’s a half hour late—a betrayal of those perfectly labeled hangers. But worth it. So very worth it.
Aubrey clings to Ethan’s hand, her heart still pumping so hard it could keep a team of gymnasts alive. In Ethan’s bag is the
bottle of cabernet they stopped for on the way even though red gives Aubrey a headache. But Ethan’s right that it’s more sophisticated
for a dinner party.
She texted Kai while Ethan was at the register.
She said she was feeling a bit off and might just do a quick drop-in to Ilena’s, so he probably shouldn’t bother making the trek to join her.
He’d responded with a thumbs-up emoji. Kai was sweet and made her laugh, but he was just a one-night stand she didn’t remember.
Ethan was her past and her present and a future she never got the chance to have. Except maybe now she would.
“Thanks for making me smile,” Ethan whispers in the elevator that’s nearly the size of her apartment. Felix’s condo—Felix
and Ilena’s condo—is in one of the newly renovated warehouses along the waterfront originally designed for cartons of tea
and spices and all manner of imported goods. Maybe she and Ethan could move here, try something new.
The elevator stops on the top floor and the door to the condo opens, revealing breathtaking harbor views through windows that
soar from the dark wood floors to the industrial pipes running along the ceiling. Aubrey wonders if she and Ethan moved here
if they should get a boat. They could take sailing lessons together. Hobbies bring couples closer, don’t they?
Felix excitedly ushers them in. He hugs Aubrey, relieves Ethan of his bag, and Aubrey remembers that this Felix doesn’t know
who Ethan is. She rushes an introduction, and “thanks for having me” and “congratulations” and “general counsel” and “cloud
data storage” and a stream of small-talk pleasantries drift over Aubrey as she enters Ilena’s home, trying not to gawk like
it’s her first time.
Beside a glass bar cart, wearing a plaid coat too heavy for summer, Mallory rocks on her heels, having a conversation with
James, though Aubrey can tell she’s not paying attention. She hates these things, and presumably this particular thing even
more than usual—this admittedly somewhat bizarrely timed celebration of Ilena’s baby. Ilena’s desire to be a mom triggered
something unseemly in Mallory, perhaps simply selfishness, though Aubrey would like to think it runs deeper than that, not
that something deeper would make it okay.
Upon hearing Felix’s welcome, Mallory turns, her eyes floating to Ethan, and heat rises in Aubrey’s cheeks, even though she’s an adult and she’s free to have sex with whomever she wants but especially her fiancé.
Especially when the sex was so good. Not that it was bad in her world, not always, but there was a degree of awkward, at least for Aubrey.
She’d blamed herself, knowing she needed to lighten up, not dwell on past choices of boys and men she wanted who didn’t want her, but maybe the only way to do that was to be somewhere without so much history weighing her down.
Mallory continues acting strangely, jutting her chin, pointing with the heel of her strappy sandal and what is she—
“Aubrey, there you are,” Ilena says, sparkling water bottle in hand. “Your guest has already arrived. And so very helpful.”
“My guest? Helpful? But he’s not—”
Kai steps out from behind Ilena carrying a tray of skewers—shrimp, chicken, mozzarella, eggplant, every allergen and dietary
restriction accounted for. His slight, unsure smile doesn’t give room for those dimples she’d wanted to stick her finger in
at the bar. “I was early,” he says. “Already here when I got your text, so I figured I’d stick around. Just in case you needed
anything.”
Her throat’s so dry she can’t get out a sound.
“Hey now.” Ethan plants himself next to her, two lowball glasses already in hand.
Kai tightens his grip on the tray. He doesn’t meet Aubrey’s eye. He can’t see the utter horror that’s spreading across her
face.
Ethan passes Aubrey a drink before laying an arm around her shoulders. “Genius idea, underlings doubling as servers? Way to
be the boss, Aubrey Katherine.” He leans over the tray, debating the content of the skewers.
Ilena says, “Oh, he’s not—”
“Go for the chicken,” Kai says, looking at Aubrey. “It’s playful.”
In between each bite of chicken is a slice of hard-boiled egg.
The sex high Aubrey had been floating on deflates like a popped balloon, and she’s overwhelmed with the desire to apologize, to even go back in time, to not open the door and let Ethan in.
But that’s absurd because Ethan is her fiancé and Kai is an employee whom she barely knows.
Ethan snorts and waves Felix over, pointing at the skewer. “Chicken and the egg. Total dad joke.” He gives a little bow to
Felix. “Seems you are ready, my friend.”
Felix slaps Ethan on the back, and he’s the one who “introduces” Ilena and Mallory to Aubrey’s dead-but-not-dead fiancé who
does a double take at Ilena’s stunning blue eyes and Mallory’s stilt-like legs. And really, who can blame him? Certainly not
Aubrey, who still feels the same awe, all these years later.
Ethan takes his phone out of his pocket and exchanges contact information with Felix, which feels more awkward than Aubrey
thinks it should. More small talk ensues, and Kai slips deeper into the living room. Aubrey waits for a pause in the compliments
on the harbor view and exposed beams, mumbles something about being hungry, and follows Kai. He’s setting the appetizers down
on the coffee table when a bundle of apricot fur leaps up.
“Harley!” Aubrey says, to which Noreen suddenly materializes.
“Sorry, y’all, my fault, my fault.” Noreen scoops up the dog. “I’m the dog whisperer tonight. Or supposed to be!”
Aubrey smiles apologetically. “Mallory appreciates it. We all do, especially with it being such short notice.”
“It’s an honor, Ms. Miller, truly. To be included . . . squad goals, right?” She beams and spins to face the windows. “This
view, I mean, I’ve just got to get a closer look.” She plucks a chicken skewer, hands a shrimp one to Aubrey with a “Trust
me, these are delish,” and heads for the balcony.
Aubrey’s about to take a bite when Kai says, “That’s not vegan. Or is that a lie too?”
Aubrey lowers the skewer. “This . . . it’s not what you think.”
“Really? You didn’t just bring another date to the party you invited me to?”
“Well, I tried to uninvite you.”
“That doesn’t make it better. Tell me, Aubrey, have you been using me to make that asshat jealous?”
“What? No, I’m not—”
“Because that sucks.”
Aubrey rolls the metal stick in her hand, looking past Kai, willing Ilena or Mallory to come help.
“Aubrey?” Kai says.
Ethan’s joining Noreen on the balcony, his hand on her waist as he bends his head into Harley’s fur. Ethan hates dogs.
“Or perhaps we should stick with Ms. Miller.”
She snaps back to Kai. “No, that’s not what I want either. At the bar, I was having such a good time.” And pissed at the man I just slept with. “I had already invited Ethan, and I guess there was miscommunication about him coming. Still, inviting you probably wasn’t
the smartest move, considering.” She keeps fiddling with the skewer and a bit of the coconut it’s covered in falls on her
shirt. As she wipes it away, she realizes that in her hurry to get dressed, she misbuttoned.
Kai’s gaze follows hers, and the reason she was in a hurry must be written all over her face.
“I get it,” he says, not with anger or disgust but disappointment. “But I can’t stay here. You’re not my only boss. Mrs. Singh
and Ms. Latham—”
“I’ll make it right.”
He nods slowly. “Perhaps by seeing if there’s an opening in marketing?”
“Oh, that’s not . . . you don’t have to, or I mean, you shouldn’t have to . . . this just happened, I promise. I didn’t choose—”
“But you did. Own it, as my grandma says. Fault’s in the past, responsibility’s in the present.”
Aubrey stills, stopping the spinning of the skewer. Kai takes it from her, his hair no longer smelling of her eucalyptus.
He places the skewer on a napkin on the table beside a silver gift bag. Aubrey peers inside. There’s a small, stuffed octopus
with a gift tag that reads, Warmly, Kai. She places her hand to her chest, trying to discreetly fix her mismatched buttons but fumbling thanks to the sharp beat of
her heart.
Kai tries to slip out unnoticed, but Felix catches him. Aubrey wants to do something or say something, but before she can,
Felix is directing them all into the dining room, asking what they’d like to drink with dinner, trying—unsuccessfully—to get
Mallory to take off her coat.
Ethan calls to her, “We brought a red. Aubrey?”
“Oh,” Aubrey says, a sinking in her gut. “Of course, let me.”
Aubrey heads for the hall closet as the dinner guests—which include a couple from the apartment next door that Felix and Ilena
are apparently best friends with—compliment Ilena on the table settings.
She finds Ethan’s messenger bag hanging on a hook. She has to stand on tiptoes, and as she stretches her hand inside, something
clanks. She carefully lifts the bag off the hook and places it on the floor. She removes the bottle, and a phone, half out
of its protective leather sleeve, settles at the bottom of the bag. This must be Ethan’s personal phone. She goes to slide
it fully into its case when a flash of Ethan’s face draws her eye. On the lock screen is a close-up photo of him. With his
lips pressed against those of another woman.