Page 54 of Cava with My Colleague

I get a selfie back from Tessa. She’s on the balcony of her apartment in the summer evening.

Jade

Emma? Sara? Pour one out for old times’ sake.

Emma

Hold on, Santo is getting me a glass.

Jade

Wine delivery. That’s the dream.

Emma

Pretty sure Sara is out with Zoe.

Also, I can’t get my own wine because . . .

The next text is a picture of Emma, her hair up in a bun sitting cross-legged on a couch, a full glass of wine in hand. There’s a black pillow on her lap and a textbook on the arm of the couch. Santo must have taken the picture.

Oh wait, that’s not a pillow. That’s the black void cat named Zola that Santo spoils.

Jade

You look so comfortable with that fur ball in your lap.

I can’t wait to see you all. Just two days left!

The conversation shifts to the plans for the weekend, where we will fly into Rome and drive out to Santo’s villa in Castel Gandolfo, a quaint lakeside town in the Italian countryside.

Also known as the house where Emma and Santo discovered prostate massages.

There will be no prostate play on this visit; instead, we’ll do very unsexy things like tour the summer palace of the pope. Nothing gets me closing my legs like picturing the pope doing . . . well, anything.

Our time here is winding down. I have six more weeks living in Madrid. After this, there’s only one trip left with my friends before our year of adventures is up. When the August break starts, I’ll fly back to Austin and resume my old life.

My old life, which is a good life. A real life, not a year-long experiment. My apartment will be exactly as I left it—I have a subletter, but she agreed to keep my things—I’ll have to catch up with my team, and my gym will still be there with its aggressive air conditioning and its parking lot. I’ll get back into my routines. I’ll stop eating dinner at ten p.m.

I’ll stop walking everywhere. I’ll stop having coffee in the window watching my neighborhood—Lavapiés—wake up. I’ll stop being a person who goes to the market on Saturday mornings because that’s just what you do here, not because you planned it.

I’ll go back to my old life. Austin means my team—six people who’ve been running the next phase of trials without me, who send updates I skim at midnight and who deserve a senior scientist who actually shows up. It means work I’m proud of, a career I built deliberately, a program that will go on whether I’m there or not but goes better when I am.

I’m surprised, every time I think about it, by how little I want to.

And Carlos knows that my time is coming to an end. That’s why he’s pulling away.

That’s why it was just a kiss.

My phone buzzes with a new message.

Emma

How are the presentations going? You’ve been quiet.

Jade

Fine. Good, actually. Getting better.