I was running late for work. Rushing about like a mad thing trying to get ready. I ran into the bathroom, jumped in the shower. Gave my face a good scrub to get rid of the remnants of last night's make-up. Gruesome, crusty stuff. It would serve me right if I got the pimple from hell. Last night had all been some bizarre dream. But this was real life. Work and school and friends. My plans for the future. Those were the things that were important. And if I just kept telling myself that, everything would be fine and dandy someday.

Irene didn't much mind what we wore at work beyond the official café T-shirt. Her roots were strongly alternative. She'd planned to be a poet but wound up inheriting her aunt's coffee shop in the Pearl district. Urban development had upped property prices and Irene became quite the well-to-do businesswoman. Now she wrote her poetry on the walls in the café. I don't think you could find a better boss. But late was still late. Not good.

I'd stayed up worrying about what had happened with Lisa in that alleyway. Reliving the moment where she told me she considered us still married. Sleep would have been far more beneficial. Pity my brain wouldn't switch off.

I pulled on a black pencil skirt, the official café T-shirt and a pair of flats. Done. Nothing was going to help the bruises beneath my eyes. People had pretty much gotten used to them on me lately. It took about half a stick of concealer to cover the bruise on my neck.

I roared out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam, just in time to see Rosé waltz out of the kitchen, broad smile on her face. "You're late for work."

"That I am."

I looped my handbag over my shoulder, grabbed my keys off the table and got going. There wasn't time for this. Not now. Quite possibly not ever. I couldn't imagine her ever having a good enough reason for siding with Lisa. Over the last month she'd spent many nights by my side, letting me talk myself hoarse about Lisa when I needed to. Because eventually, it all had to come out. Daily I told her that I didn't deserve her, and she'd smack a kiss on my cheek. Why betray me now? I thumped down the stairs with extra oomph.

"Jen, wait." Rosé ran after me as I stormed down the front steps.

I turned on her, house keys held before me like a weapon. "You told her where I was."

"What was I supposed to do?"

"Oh, I don't know. Not tell her? You knew I didn't want to see her." I looked her over, noticing all sorts of things I didn't want to. "Full hair and make-up at this hour? Really, Rosé? Were you expecting her to be here, perhaps?"

Her chin dipped as she had the good grace to look embarrassed at last. "I'm sorry. You're right, I got carried away. But she's here to make amends. I thought you might at least want to hear what she has to say."

I shook my head, fury bubbling away inside me. "Not your call."

"You've been miserable. What was I supposed to do?" She threw her arms sky high. "She said that she'd come to make things right with you. I believe her."

"Of course you do. She's Lisa Manoban, your very own teen idol."

"No. If she wasn't here to kiss your feet I'd have killed her. No matter who she is, she hurt you." She seemed sincere, her mouth pinched and eyes huge. "I'm sorry about dressing up this morning. It won't happen again."

"You look great. But you're wasting your time. She's not going to be here. That isn't going to happen."

"No? So, who gave you that monster on your neck?"

I didn't even need to answer that. Damn it. The sun beat down overhead, warming up the day.

"If there's a chance you think she might be the one," she said, making my stomach twist. "If you think you two can sort this out somehow … She's the only one that ever got to you. The way you talk about her …"

"We were only together a few days."

"You really think that matters?"

"Yes. No. I don't know," I flailed. It wasn't pretty. "We never made sense, Rosé. Not from day one."

"Gah," she said, making a strangled noise to accompany it. "This is about your fucking plan, isn't it? Let me clue you in on something. You don't have to make sense. You just have to want to be together and be willing to do whatever it takes to make that happen. It's amazingly simple. That's love, Jen, putting each other first. Not worrying about if you fit into some fucktard plan that your Dad brainwashed you into believing was what you wanted out of life."

"It's not about the plan." I scrubbed at my face with my hands, holding back tears of frustration and fear. "She broke me. It feels like she broke me. Why would anyone willingly take that chance again?"

Rosé looked at me, her own eyes bright. "I know she hurt you. So punish the bastard, keep her waiting. The fucker, she deserves it. But if you love her, then think about hearing what she has to say."

Maybe I was coming down with a cold, tight chest and itchy eyes. Having your heart broken should come with some positives, some perspective to balance out the bad. I should have been wiser, tougher, but I didn't feel it just then. I jangled my house keys. Irene was going to kill me. I'd have to forego my usual walk and catch a streetcar to have even a hope in hell of not getting my Texas-sized ass fired. "I have to go."

Rosé nodded, face set. "You know, I love you so much more than I ever loved her. Without question."

I snorted. "Thanks."

"But has it occurred to you that you wouldn't be this upset if you didn't still love her at least a little bit?"

"I don't like you making sense at this hour of the morning. Stop it."

She took a step back, giving me a smile. "You were always there talking sense at me when I needed it. So I'm not going to stop nagging you just because you don't like what you're hearing. Deal with it."

"I love you, Rosé."

"I know, you Kim kids are crazy for me. Why just last night, your brother did this thing …"

I fled from the sound of her evil laughter.

Work was fine. Two guys came in to ask me to a frat party that was coming up. I'd never received such invites pre-Lisa. I therefore declined them post-Lisa. If I was indeed post-Lisa. Who knew? Various people tried for autographs or information and I sold them coffee and cake instead. We closed up close to dusk.

All day I'd been on edge, wondering if she'd put in an appearance. Tomorrow was today, but I hadn't seen any sign of her. Maybe she'd changed her mind. Mine changed from one minute to the next. My promise to her not to decide yet was safe and sound.

We were just locking up when Irene jabbed me in the ribs with her elbow. Probably a bit harder than she meant to because I'm pretty sure I sustained a kidney injury.

"She's really here," she hissed, nodding at Lisa who did indeed lurk nearby, waiting. She was here, just like she'd said she'd be. Nervous excitement bubbled up inside of me. With a ball cap on she blended well. Especially with the haircut. My heart sobbed a little at the loss of her long dark hair. But I'd never admit to it. Amanda had told Irene about her reappearance last night. Given the lack of paparazzi and screaming fans in the vicinity, it must still be a secret from the rest of the city.

I stared at her, unsure how to feel. Last night at the club had been surreal. Here and now, this was me living my normal life. Seeing her in it, I didn't know how I felt. Discombobulated was a good word.

"Did you want to meet her?" I asked.

"No, I'm reserving judgment. I think actually meeting her might render me partial. She's very attractive, isn't she?" Irene gave her a slow look over, lingering on her jeans-clad leg longer than necessary. She had a thing for thighs. Soccer players sent her into a frenzy. Odd for a poet, but then I'd found no one ever really fit a certain type. Everyone had their quirks.

Irene continued looking Lisa over like she was meat at market. "Maybe don't divorce her."

"You sound very impartial. See you later."

Her hand hooked my arm. "Wait. If you stay with her will you still work for me?"

"Yes. I'll even try to be on time more often. Night, Irene."

She stood on the sidewalk, hands stuffed into the pockets of her jeans. Seeing her felt similar to standing at a cliff's edge. The little voice in the back of my head whispered damn the consequences, you know you can probably fly. If you can't, imagine the thrill of the fall. Reason, on the other hand, screamed bloody murder at me.

At what point exactly could you decide you were going insane?

"Jennie."

Everything stopped. If she ever figured out what it did to me when she said my name like that, I was done for. God, I'd missed her. It'd been like having a piece of me missing. But now that she was back, I didn't know how we fit together anymore. I didn't even know if we could.

"Hi," I said.

"You look tired," she said, mouth turning downward. "I mean, you look good, of course. But …"

"It's fine." I studied the sidewalk, took a deep breath. "It was a busy day."

"So this is where you work?"

"Yeah."

Irene's café sat quiet and empty. Fairy lights twinkled in the windows alongside a host of pamphlets taped to the glass advertising this and that. Street lights flickered on around us.

"Looks nice. Listen, we don't have to talk right now," she said. "I just wanna walk you home."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "You don't have to do that."

"It's not like it's a chore. Let me walk you home, Jen. Please."

I nodded and after a moment started a hesitant stride down the city street. Lisa fell into step beside me. What to talk about? Every topic seemed loaded. An open pit full of sharp stakes lay waiting around every corner. She kept shooting me wary sidelong glances. Opening her mouth and then shutting it. Apparently the situation sucked for both of us. I couldn't bring myself to talk about LA. Last night seemed safer territory. Wait. No, it wasn't. Bringing up alley sex was never going to pass for smart.

"How was your day?" she asked. "Apart from busy."

Why couldn't I have thought of something innocuous like that?

"Ah, fine. A couple of girls came in with stuff for you to sign. Some guys wanted me to give you a demo tape of their garage-reggae-blues band. One of the big-name jocks from school came in just to give me his number. He thinks we could have fun sometime," I babbled, trying to lighten the mood.

Her face became thunderous, dark brows drawn tight together. "Shit. That been happening often?"

And I was an idiot to have opened my mouth. "It's no big deal, Lisa. I told him I was busy and he went away."

"So he fucking should." She tipped her chin, giving me a long look. "You trying to make me jealous?"

"No, my mouth just ran away without my head. Sorry. Things are complicated enough."

"I am jealous."

I stared at her in surprise. I don't know why. She'd made it clear last night she was here for me. But the knowledge that maybe I wasn't alone out on the lovelorn precipice, thinking of throwing myself off … there was a lot of comfort in that.

"Come on," she said, resuming the walking. At the corner we stopped, waiting for the traffic to clear.

"I might get Sam up here to keep an eye on you," she said. "I don't want people bothering you at work."

"As much as I like Sam, he can stay where he is. Normal people don't take bodyguards to work."

Her forehead scrunched up but she said nothing. We crossed the road, continuing on. A streetcar rumbled past, all lit up. I preferred walking, getting in some outside time after being shut inside all day. Plus, Portland's beautiful: cafés and breweries and a weird heart. Take that, LA.

"So what did you do today?" I asked, proving myself a total winner in the creative conversation stakes.

"Just had a look around town, checking things out. I don't get to play the tourist too often. We're going left here," she said, turning me off the normal path toward home.

"Where are we going?"

"Just bear with me here. I need to pick something up." She escorted me into a pizza place I went to occasionally with Rosé. "Pizza's the only thing I know you definitely eat. They were willing to stick on every fucking vegetable I could think of, so I hope you'll like it."

The place was only about a quarter full due to the early hour. Bare brick walls and black tables. A jukebox blared out something by the Beatles. I stood in the doorway, hesitant to go further with him. The man nodded to Lisa and fetched an order from the warmer behind him. Lisa thanked him and headed back toward me.

"You didn't have to do that." I stepped back out onto the street, giving the pizza box suspicious glances.

"It's just pizza, Jen," she said. "Relax. You don't even have to ask me to share it with you if you don't want. Which way is it to your place from here?"

"Left."

We walked another block in silence with Lisa carrying the pizza box up high on one hand.

"Stop frowning," she said. "When I picked you up last night you were lighter than in Monterey. You've lost weight."

I shrugged. Not going there. Definitely not remembering her lifting me and my legs going around her and how badly I'd missed her and the sound of her voice as she—

"Yeah, well, I liked you the way you were," she said. "I love your curves. So I came up with another plan. You're getting pizza with fifteen cheeses on it until you've got them back."

"My first instinct here is to say something snarky about how my body is no longer any of your business."

"Lucky you thought twice about saying that, huh? Especially since you let me back into your body last night." She met my scowl with one of her own. "Look, I just don't want you losing weight and getting sick, especially not on my account. It's that simple. Forget the rest and stop giving the pizza dirty looks or you'll hurt its feelings."

"You're not the boss of me," I muttered.

She barked out a laugh. "You feel better for saying that?"

"Yes."

I gave her a wary smile. Having her beside me again felt too easy. I shouldn't get comfortable, who knew when it would once again blow up in my face? But the truth was, I wanted her there so bad it hurt.

"Ba—" She cleared her throat and tried again, without the sentiment that would have earned her an automatic smackdown. "Friend. Are we friends again?"

"I don't know."

She shook her head. "We're friends. Jen, you're sad, you're tired, and you've lost weight, and I fucking hate that I'm the cause of it. I'm going to make this right with you one step at a time. Just … give me a little room to maneuver here. I promise I won't step on your toes too badly."

"I don't trust you anymore, Lisa."

Her teasing smile fell. "I know you don't. And when you're ready we're gonna talk about that."

I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat.

"When you're ready," she reiterated. "Come on. Let's get you home so you can eat this while it's still hot."

We walked the rest of the way home in silence. I think it was companionable. Lisa gave me occasional small smiles. They seemed genuine.

She tramped up the stairs behind me, not really bothering to look around. I'd forgotten she'd been here last night when she got my whereabouts from Rosé. I unlocked the door and took a peek inside, still scarred from catching Rosé and my brother on the couch last week. Living with them wasn't going to work long term. I think everyone was getting to the point of needing their own space.

The last month, though, had been beneficial for Chan and me. It had given us a chance to talk. We were closer than we'd ever been. He loved his job at the mechanic shop. He was happy and settled. Rosé was right, he'd changed. My brother had figured out what he wanted and where he belonged. Now if I could just get my shit together and do the same.

Rock music played softly and Chan and Rosé danced in the middle of the room. An impromptu thing obviously, given my brother's still-greasy work clothes. Rosé didn't seem to care, holding onto him tight, staring into his eyes.

I cleared my throat to announce our arrival and stepped into the room.

Chan looked over and gave me a welcoming smile. But then he saw Lisa. Blood suffused his face and his eyes changed. The temperature in the room seemed to rocket.

"Chan," I said, making a grab for him as he charged Lisa.

"Shit." Rosé ran after him. "No!"

Chan's fist connected with Lisa's face. The pizza went flying. Lisa stumbled back, blood gushing from her nose.

"You fucking asshole," my brother yelled.

I jumped on Chan's back, trying to wrestle him back. Rosé grabbed at his arm. Lisa did nothing. She covered her bloody face but made no move to protect herself from further damage.

"I'm going to fucking kill you for hurting her," Chan roared.

Lisa just looked at him, eyes accepting.

"Stop, Chan!" My feet dragged at the floor, my arms wrapped around my brother's windpipe.

"You want her here?" Chan asked me, incredulous. "Are you fucking serious?" Then he looked at Rosé tugging at his arm. "What are you doing?"

"This is between them, Chan."

"What? No! You saw what she did to my sister. What she's been like for the last month."

"You need to calm down. She doesn't want this." Rosé hands patted over his face. "Please, babe. This isn't you."

Slowly, Chan pulled back. His shoulders dropped back to normal levels, his muscles relaxing. I gave up my choke hold on him, not that it had done much good. My brother did the raging bull thing scarily well. Blood leaked out from between Lisa's fingers, dripped onto the floor. "Crap. Come on." I grabbed her arm and led her into our bathroom.

She leaned over the sink, swearing quietly but profusely. I bundled up some toilet paper and handed it to her. She stuffed it beneath her bloody nostrils.

"Is it broken?"

"I dunno," her voice was muffled, thick.

"I'm so sorry."

"'S'okay." From her back jeans pocket came a ringing noise.

"I'll get it." Carefully, I extracted her phone. The name flashing on screen stopped me cold. The universe had to be playing a prank. Surely. Except it wasn't. It was just the same old heartbreak playing out all over again inside of me. I could already feel the ice-cold numbness spreading through my veins.

"It's her." I held the phone out to Lisa.

Above the ball of bloody toilet paper her nose looked wounded, but intact. Violence wasn't going to help. No matter the anger working through me, winding me up just then.

Her gaze jumped from the screen to me. "Jen."

"You should go. I want you to go."

"I haven't talked to Jisoo since that night. I've had nothing to do with her."

I shook my head, out of words. The phone ringed shrilly, the noise piercing my eardrums. It echoed on and on inside the small bathroom. It vibrated in my hand and my whole body trembled. "Take it before I break it."

Bloodstained fingers took it from my hand.

"You gotta let me explain," she said. "I promise, she's gone."

"Then why is she calling you?"

"I don't know and I'm not answering. I haven't spoken to her once since I fired her. You gotta believe me."

"But I don't. I mean, how can I?"

She blinked pained eyes at me. We just stared at one another as realization dawned. This wasn't going to work. This had never been going to work. She was always secrets and lies and I was always on the outside looking in. Nothing had changed. My heart was breaking all over again. Surprising, really, that there was enough of it left to worry over.

"Just go," I said, my stupid eyes welling up.

Without another word she walked out.