Page 47 of The One Where They Fall in Love

I feel less stress since breaking things off with Henry, as terrible as that sounds. It’s just that I felt like I had to try too hard with him. And I am so jaded from imagining my life as it could be—a life like Lucy’s, with a partner that I feel comfortable with, that understands me, that wants me to be happy—only to have my hopes crushed every time. It just seems so impossible to me. But now that Oliver is in my life, I feel the possibilities running across my brain again. I look forward to the brief few minutes a day I get to see him. It’s the thing that’s keeping me going right now

However much I like spending time with Oliver, though, hope turns back to disappointment when I remind myself that he is not my partner. He’s my friend. Just my friend.

Twenty

Oliver

Elle lets herself into the apartment, two bags of groceries hanging from her arms, along with the three other canvas bags she carries to work with her every day. When I first saw her carrying them, I couldn’t imagine what she lugged back and forth in those things. It’s not like she packs her lunch. I snuck a peek last night when my insomnia was in full force, since I can’t exactly run on the treadmill when Elle is asleep on the couch. And the answer is books.

The girl carries books around Manhattan for no apparent reason.

No wonder she is freakishly strong.

“Hey,” I say, rising from the couch as she closes the door behind her. She is in casual work mode today, no chic dress with black tights—I’m a big fan of the tights. She’s wearing a high-neck, white sweater with khakis. It’s the end of April, I’d be sweating in that outfit if I was her. She has a shy smile on her face when she walks in the door, so I ask, “What are you so happy about? Did you see thebaby corgi again?”

“Ugh, I wish,” she says, dropping the bags on the counter.

“I could have gone shopping,” I offer, leaning against the bar top.

“Well that would defeat the purpose of my cooking dinner, now wouldn’t it?” she says, emptying a pack of chicken thighs on to the counter.

“And why are you suddenly feeling so domestic?”

“I told you, as a thank you for letting me stay here.” She takes a cutting board out of one of my cabinets and starts dicing the chicken. She moves with such ease, it’s like she’s always lived here.

“It’s really not a big deal—”

“Baked chicken and mac and cheese,” she says, interrupting me. She turns the oven on and jumps when the gas turns on. “It’s my brother’s favorite.”

I smile. I love when she talks about her brother. Her face lights up in a way that I don’t see any other time, except maybe when she talks about Lucy.

We’re quiet for a few minutes as she moves around the kitchen, cooking the chicken and chopping some vegetables. As I watch her, curiosity sneaks in my brain. “Can I ask you something?” She hums and nods. “You said you needed a project when we started our New York deal.”

“Yeah,” she replies.

“Why? And don’t say because Lucy moved out.”

Elle shrugs. “It’s what I do. I help people. Make them feel better. I’m a really good hype girl.” When I don’t say anything, Elle continues. “It’s just the way I am. I told you my parents got divorced and my brother needed some extra attention, so I picked up the pieces. As I got older, I guessit became a habit, taking care of people.” She smiles as she adds a bag of shredded cheese to a pot.

“When is the next time you’re going to see your brother?” I ask.

“Well, that’s what I want to talk to you about. Next weekend, Lucy is coming for our final dress fittings. And then she’ll be back the following week for her book launch party.”

“Uh huh,” I mumble, setting two dishes out for us on the counter. I keep an eye on Thor, who is inhaling his food like he’ll never get another morsel again.

When I turn to face Elle, she’s dropping a box of pasta into the boiling water. She seems hesitant to speak again, avoiding my gaze and stirring the pasta more than she has to.

“Mikey said it’s going to be at least another week until my apartment is livable,” she finally says. “So I’m going to have to stay at my mom’s and commute next week. If you don’t mind me staying tonight, then I’ll take the train tomorrow after work.”

I look at her for a moment, trying to figure out the logistics of what she just said. She’s… going to commute from her mom’s in Jersey? She’d rather do that than stay here with me? I think back over the past few days, wondering if I’ve been a terribly annoying roommate. I don’t think I snore that loud, and I know for a fact I am not a messy person…

“Oliver,” Elle says, snapping me out of my thoughts. I meet her gaze, my face still contorted in confusion. “I’m really grateful for you letting me stay here, but I can’t impose—”

“You’re not imposing. Iaskedyou to stay here,” I say, a sharp edge to my voice. I don’t know why I’m getting so…territorialabout her staying here. It’s just the thought of notseeing her for a whole week. Should it bother me this much, just the idea of that? Especially when she clearly doesn’t think the same way, so much so that she’s planning a way to avoid this situation?

“Plus, who would watch Thor next week while I’m at work?” I continue, ignoring the fact that Thor would probably be fine on his own at this point. If I have to leave him and Elle isn’t around, he’s usually okay. I find him upside down in his anti-anxiety bed when I get home.

“Ugh, I didn’t think about that,” Elle says, brushing some stray strands of hair off of her forehead. She thinks for a moment before speaking again. “But it’s a little weird, me sleeping on your couch for so long, don’t you think?” she says, shrugging her shoulders up to her ears as she leans her back against the counter.