Page 38 of The Equation of Us
My stomach drops. “You did?”
“Nothing major,” she clarifies quickly. “Just checking in, seeing how he’s doing. He was polite but… brief. I don’t know if he’s still upset or just busy or…”
“Or seeing someone else?” Sadie supplies, ever helpful.
Daphne’s face falls slightly. “You think he is? It’s only been, what, a couple of weeks?”
“Three weeks and three days,” I say automatically, then realize my mistake when both of them look at me. “I mean, approximately. From what you’ve said.”
“Well, whatever,” Daphne says, visibly rallying. “It’s not like I want to get back together. I just… miss certain things. The reliability. The stability.”
“The orgasms?” Sadie suggests innocently.
“Sadie!” Daphne throws a small pillow at her, but she’s laughing.
“What? Valid question.”
“If you must know, yes, those too.” Daphne shakes her head. “Though not as often as you’d think. I was always too in my head about it. He’d want me to like, I don’t know, let go or something, and I’d be so focused on what I was supposed to be doing that I couldn’t.”
I take a larger sip of wine, needing something to do besides scream or confess or possibly both.
“What about you, Nora?” Daphne asks, turning to me. “Any prospects on the horizon? You’ve been weirdly MIA lately.”
“Me? No.” I say it too quickly. “Just busy with research and tutoring and… stuff.”
“Stuff,” Sadie repeats, eyebrows raised meaningfully. “Very specific.”
I shoot her a warning look. She’s the only one who knows I have any interest in Dean, and I’d like to keep it that way. Especially now.
“Research stuff,” I clarify. “Boring academic stuff that would put you both to sleep.”
“Speaking of sleep,” Daphne says, glancing at her phone, “I should probably finish getting ready. James is picking me up at eight.”
“Investment Banker Ken has a name!” Sadie declares, raising her glass in a mock toast. “Things are getting serious.”
Daphne rolls her eyes but smiles. “Shut up. It’s just drinks.”
As she disappears back into her bedroom, Sadie scoots closer to me, voice dropping to a whisper. “Okay, what is up with you? You look like you’re about to spontaneously combust.”
“Nothing,” I hiss back. “I’m fine.”
“Bullshit.” She narrows her eyes. “This is about Dean, isn’t it? Oh my god, did something happen after the text incident?”
I glance toward Daphne’s bedroom, making sure she’s out of earshot. “Maybe,” I admit reluctantly.
Sadie’s eyes widen. “Holy shit, Nora. Are you hooking up with him?”
“Shh!” I glance at the bedroom door again. “Keep your voice down!”
“You are!” She claps a hand over her mouth, then whispers through her fingers, “When? How? I need details immediately.”
“I can’t talk about this right now,” I mutter, reaching for the nail polish bottle. “Not with Daphne literally in the next room talking about maybe wanting him back.”
“She doesn’t want him back,” Sadie says dismissively. “She just doesn’t want him to move on before she does. Classic post-breakup neurosis.”
“That doesn’t make it better.” I busy myself cleaning up the nail polish station, needing something to do with my hands. “I feel like the world’s worst friend.”
“Oh, come on.” Sadie rolls her eyes. “She dumped him. Publicly. Multiple times. She doesn’t get dibs forever.”
