Phoebe Berman's Gonna Lose It(74)

I mull his thought process over. “That makes zero sense.”

“Well, nothing you think makes sense, either,” he says matter-of-factly.

“That’s true.”

We walk out of his office building together arm in arm, and he drops me off at my car before heading into the garage to find his.

As soon as I get on the road, I call Nora.

“Hello?” Her voice is slightly clipped, and I know her well enough to sense that she’s annoyed with me for not responding to her announcement earlier.

“I know I’m late to congratulate you.” I’m about to white lie and tell her that I’m just now looking at my phone for the first time today, but I have a change of heart at the last second. It feels like it’s time to be honest, for a change. “I’m just now getting around to processing the news. I’m sorry it took me so long.” She lets out a small sigh on the other end of the line. “I’ll miss you, Nora. So much. But I am so proud of you.”

There’s a moment of silence between us before she responds, her voice much softer than I’m used to. “You’ll come visit, though, right? It’s only a six-hour drive to San Francisco.”

“It’s a good thing my Glee playlist is well over seven,” I tell her. “I’ll be there.”



* * *



—

After my call with Nora, I spend the rest of my ride home lost in thought, daydreaming about all the things Jonathan and I will do now that we know we’re not running out of time.

The neon Open sign flashing above our local gas station snaps me out of my trance, and I decide to run in and grab some snacks for our Love Is Blind marathon. I load up on Jonathan’s favorites: Airheads Xtremes, peanut M&M’s, and honey mustard pretzels.

I don’t notice the ticket on my windshield until my walk back to the car. I can’t help but smile when I pick it up.

It’s the best fifty-four dollars I’ve ever spent.





23


Jonathan is out like a light before we even make it to the end of episode two.

It’s eight p.m., and I can hardly hear the TV over the sound of his snores coming from the other end of the couch. I take my blanket and drape it over him, frowning when I realize it’s not large enough to cover anything below his knees. I run up to my room, cringing at the sight of my unmade bed from this morning. I make it up haphazardly before grabbing the blanket I sleep with and taking it downstairs to place over Jonathan’s legs.

I watch as his chest rises and falls in time with his breathing, hoping that he’s able to rest easier after everything he told me earlier. I’ve had enough, he had said right before coming out, and it struck me right in the gut. Is it possible that that’s all it takes to finally feel ready to make a change? Because if that’s the case, I’m realizing that I’ve had enough, too. I’m so tired of being the only thing getting in the way of my happiness.

Maybe, just maybe, if Jonathan can be brave, I can be, too.

I tiptoe upstairs, closing my bedroom door behind me and pulling out my phone. I stare at the two texts I was too afraid to answer before.

Matthew:

How are you feeling?

Can we talk?

Typing out a response doesn’t feel like enough. Instead, I pull up his number and press the call button.

Ring

My heart is in my throat.

Ring

What do I even say to him?

Ring

Maybe I should hang up.

Ring

Is he ignoring me?

Ring

I’ve ruined it.

Ring

Would flying back to New York to apologize be too much?

Just when I’m about to give up, there’s a click on the other end of the line, and a deep voice croaks out, “Hello?”

My stomach drops. “Did I wake you?” I didn’t think about the fact that he’s three hours ahead.

“Phoebe?”

“Yes. Hi. Sorry if I woke you.”

“You didn’t.” I think I hear him stifle a yawn. “I’m just fighting some jet lag.”

“Jet lag? Where are you?”

A pause. “I’m actually in LA. For work.”

“You’re…in LA?”

“I flew in last night for a shoot today. I would have told you, but…”

“I never answered you,” I finish his sentence.

“Yeah.”

“About that…” I had planned on groveling over the phone, but him being here changes things. “Can I see you?”

“What are you doing right now?” he asks.

“Right now?” Right now? “I’m not doing anything.”

“Maybe I can meet you somewhere? I leave first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Yes!” My pulse thrums rapidly under the surface of my skin.

Do it scared.

“Yes. Absolutely. Let’s meet somewhere. I have just the place.”

“Okay, cool. Text me the address. I’ll see you soon, Phoebe.”

“That’s great.”

“Great.”

“See you soon.”



* * *



—

Matthew:

Be there in 5