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"I will," I say.
"This is not how I pictured the two of us becoming sisters," she says. "And I know it probably won't last. But I don't hate it."
She's a better friend than I am. Because I did hate it. A little, anyway. I hated losing her to my brother.
And, well—
I haven't told her I'm moving three thousand miles away.
I haven't told anyone.
But I can't face that now, and I need her comfort. So I squeeze her back, and I tell her I love her, and I accept her I love you too, and I let myself believe we're each other's person, like Meredith and Christina. Until Sandra Oh left the show, and Christina moved to another country and…
What happened then?
Were they still each other's soulmates? I stopped watching. Maybe that's better. I can write my own ending. I can pretend they're happily ever after.
Cassie releases me with one more promise to check in on me, then she leaves, and I'm alone with my husband.
I take a deep breath and move toward the breakfast table.
He stands. "Or do you want to sit? I can clear these. I was losing anyway." He lets out a soft laugh. There's an ease to it. An ease I want to feel.
Maybe we can laugh about this. Maybe it's not a big deal. "Sure. Do you want anything? Coffee. Or lunch, maybe. What time is it?"
"Do you want to order room service?"
I shake my head.
"Do you want to talk at the buffet?"
My nose scrunches in distaste. "Why would I want to have ten mediocre things instead of one good thing?"
"People like options."
"Do you like options?" I ask. I'm not sure if we're still talking about meals or if we're onto marriage. Both, maybe.
"Sometimes," he says. "Usually, I know what I want. I'd rather order that."
"You don't want a taste of everything?"
"I want to taste everything on my plate," he says.
He wants a commitment. A partner. He wants to try things with a partner.
Or he's not onto my metaphor at all. That's possible.
I sit as he clears the cards. The sun streams through the big windows, casting a soft glow over the room. I don't love the barren landscape the way some people do, but from here, the dirt and brush are beautiful.
"Let's talk. Then eat," he says. "Any non-buffet you want."
"Can we go to a Thai place off the strip?"
He smiles. "I forget how much you and Cassie are alike."
"Is that strange? Your wife is similar to your sister."
His smile widens at the word wife. He likes the idea of it. Marriage. Commitment. The two of us together, forever. But is it about me? Or is it still some idea he has of himself as a husband? He doesn't explain any of that. He teases back. "I'm the one who married my sister's best friend."
