Page 7 of All Our Almosts

“So are you here for the day or…?” He trails off, leaving me to fill in the rest.

“Actually,” I say slowly, “I was wondering if I could stay here until I can find my own place. Which will be very hard since everything in Boston is on a September lease and it’s February, but you never know, someone might die and create a vacancy. Not that I want someone to die,” I shake my head quickly, “but I also don’t want to bother you.” Andy walks over but doesn’t interrupt my runaway explanation. “I just don’t know where else to go. I mean, I’m sure Lia would say yes if I asked to stay at her place, but she doesn’t even have a couch I could stay on and I feel like sleeping in her bed with her indefinitely is a pretty big ask. I promise Andy, if you let me stay you’ll barely notice I’m here.”

Andy sits next to me and places both mugs on the coffee table (on coasters, of course). I watch his throat bob up and down with a swallow, and I think he must be running through worst case scenarios in his head: me leaving out dirty dishes, me playing music until 4:00 AM, me sitting on the couch crying over some elderly parrot I saw on the internet while he’s trying to bring home a date. I’m so mortified over the idea of that last one that I almost tell him nevermind, just forget it, I’ll leave now! but before I can open my mouth he’s saying, “Okay. Yeah. Yeah, of course you can stay here.”

“I can… You… You really don’t mind?”

“Yeah. Yeah, no, yeah. Definitely.”

He’s nodding with increasing vigor, and bit like he’s still talking himself into it.

“You really don’t have to say yes. I get that it’s a huge imposition. And I would never, ever ask for something like this if there was any way I could afford rent at my current place without Elliot’s half, but I just can’t. I don’t make enough to cover it. And I can’t keep living with him with the way we left things, so I’m just kind of… stuck.”

“How did you leave things?” he asks. He’s trying to hide how curious he is, but there’s a little twitch in his brow that gives him away.

And I want to tell him about the break up—I do, he deserves an explanation—I just don’t have it in me quite yet. So I simply say, “Badly.” Then, after a pause, “But if I’m being honest, it was a long time coming.”

He looks at me like he sees through my tissue and blood and bones straight to the core of all the things I’m not saying. Then he says, “Come here,” and is pulling me across the couch. His long arms wrap around me, bringing the side of my face to rest against his chest as he holds me tight.

Sometimes I joke that his arms are my seatbelt. Because you know how the pressure of a seatbelt against your chest makes you feel safe? It started just for scary movies at first (which I don’t like but Lia loves and makes us watch often). Whenever there would be a really tense or scary scene, I’d grab one of Andy’s long arms and pull it across my body, the same way the strap of a seatbelt would cross over your chest, you know? But the seatbelt has evolved, and now sometimes I do it when I’m just cold or tired or stressed and he doesn’t complain. Just lets me grab his hand with a plaintive “Seatbelt, please?” and tuck myself into him.

This, right now, is a double seatbelt. Which is different from a hug, because a hug can be for anything, but a seatbelt is to keep me safe.

I told you Andy’s not the best with words, right? I mean, he’s actually great with words because he’s an editor, but he needs to take his time with them. Needs to see them written down, then revise them and rework them until the point is conveyed perfectly. So I know he doesn’t know what to say to me right now, and I don’t blame him for it.

But the double seatbelt? Phenomenal substitute for words.

3

By mid-afternoon, everyone knows. And by everyone I just mean NASA because they are everyone to me.

Well, I mean, I do have parents. But they don’t need to know yet. In fact, I’d much rather tell them in a week or two—or in the case of my dad, possibly never—once things are firmly squared away. If I called my mom now she would just worry, and there would be nothing she could do, and why make her miserable for no reason?

But the important thing is Nolan and Lia know, and they have never stayed out of anything ever, so of course they’re here.

Not that I’m complaining. They went to my old place and literally packed boxes for me so I wouldn’t have to see Elliot. Not everything, obviously. Not the furniture since I’ll only be here temporarily, but enough to last me until I get my life in order. Clothes, shoes, coats, sticky notes, toothbrush, the book I’m in the middle of, my computer and charger—things like that.

The two of them huff into Andy’s apartment noisily, each carrying a box and a bag with a few more waiting in Nolan’s car. I point them to the spare bedroom off of the kitchen—formerly Andy’s home office until he unflinchingly handed it over to me a few hours ago. (I still can’t get over how quickly he agreed to that, by the way.)

“I love you guys. Thank you so much,” I say as they set everything down. “Really, you didn’t have to do that. I could’ve dealt with seeing him.”

“Shush,” is Lia’s response, and she literally puts her index finger over my mouth. “Stop that. We wanted to.”

“Yeah, it’s nothing, Soph,” Nolan insists. “Why don’t you and Lia just hang out while Andy and I get the rest from the car, yeah?”

I think about arguing, but Nolan pulls me into a bear hug that physically silences me. He kisses me on the top of the head like the most softhearted big brother anyone could imagine (even though he’s not really my brother) then pats Andy on the shoulder to cue their departure.

The moment Nolan’s body breaks contact with mine, Lia’s replaces it, arms wrapped tight around me. I bury my chin in her shoulder, praying she won’t ask me about it but knowing she will.

“What happened, Soph?”

There it is.

I mean, she had to. She’s being a good friend. I just hate that I’m bringing everyone down with this melodrama.

“I’m fine, really,” I force out, but she doesn’t loosen her grip. “It was just time to call it.”

“Well he’s a fucking loser who never deserved you, and you’re going to be so much better off without him.”