Page 106 of A Solid Guide to Surviving a Situationship

Because standing in front of me was Ex #3.

CHAPTER 13

THE EX WHO FELT SAFE

Rick and I sat across from each other, elbows on the table, heads resting on our hands—just staring at each other.

Neither of us blinked, both afraid the other might disappear.

Rick looked exactly the same… or maybe not exactly. There was something calmer about him now. More settled. Like time had softened whatever edges he used to carry.

But the familiarity was still there.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. We just took each other in, quietly, like we were trying to confirm this was real.

“Excuse me.”

The waiter’s voice cut in, setting two bottles of beer down between us, snapping the moment open.

“Thank you,” Rick said, sitting up straighter.

I blinked, pulling myself out of it, glancing around like I had just remembered where we were.

KUBU was alive.

We were seated in the open-air second floor, where everything felt louder, brighter, and more exposed to the night. Strings of warm lights hung loosely above us, casting a soft, golden glow over crowded tables, while the breeze carried laughter, music, and overlapping conversations in every direction. Families were gathered around long tables, exchanging gifts, and couples leaned into each other like the world outside didn’t exist.

It was busy. Too busy for a moment like this.

“I can’t believe this,” I said, letting out a small breath.

Rick let out a small laugh, shaking his head. “Me neither.”

A pause.

Then, because I was still me, I had to ask, “Do you still hate Taylor Swift?”

Rick blinked, caught off guard, before letting out a laugh.

“I don’t hate her,” he said, already defensive. “I just don’t think every life problem needed a soundtrack.”

I scoffed. “That’s literally where you’re wrong.”

He shook his head, smiling now. “You used to get personally offended every time I skipped one of her songs.”

“Because you had no taste,” I shot back jokingly. “You were actively choosing to live a less emotionally evolved life.”

Rick laughed, leaning back slightly. “You made me listen to her seven days a week.”

“And did you die?”

He laughed even more. “I was held hostage.”

“You were educated.”

He looked at me, amused. “You’re still like before.”

I shrugged. “And you’re still wrong.”