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56

“I can’t either,” she finally whispered. “I saw Manhattan. I saw thick, billowy clouds of steam coming up from the ground and chewy, hot bagels smothered in veggie cream cheese, and those incredible boho-chic boutiques in SoHo. I didn’t see LA.”

I leaned against her shoulder. “Are you disappointed?”

“No, babe, this is so much better.”

I sighed, kicking my feet onto our new coffee table. “How about I order us a boat of sushi and we open a bottle of wine and put on Housewives of any city?”

“I love you.”

I giggled. “I thought you’d dig that plan.”

“It’s perfect.”

And it was.

But what would be even better was if I heard from Jenner. He lived so close; I could be at his house in eight minutes if I hit every green light.

I wouldn’t do that.

I wasn’t going to call him either.

I was going to make him reach out to me.

“I feel like this is our last moment of freedom,” Monica said. “Come Monday, you’re all business, traveling to Utah soon and deep into the trenches of your new job. I have three
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