Archive of Our Own

They’d done it. They’d won the whole fucking thing, just like he’d promised her. And a week and a half into the summer hiatus, the team and its staff had mostly scattered to the four corners of the wind. Off on holiday somewhere sunny, catching up on their sleep, or, in Jamie’s case, filming a reunion episode of Lust Conquers All.

Nelson Road was quiet. Too quiet. Rebecca had too much space to listen to her own thoughts as she sat at her desk, theoretically meant to be reviewing contract renewals and double checking a few odds and ends from the closeout of the season, but instead mostly picking at her nail polish. It was too warm for London and the windows in her office were open; she kept catching herself listening for the sound of whistles from the pitch that weren’t coming. Listening for one particular whistle gone for good.

She was restless and at a loss as to how to regain her equilibrium, nearly ready to give up the pretense of work for the day and go home to her wine and her couch when Keeley came bursting through the door. She wore joggers with her heels, her hair in one long braid down her back. Rebecca eyed her warily, unsure if her fragile mental state could handle Keeley’s special brand of enthusiasm. But Keeley didn’t immediately launch into tales of a new ad campaign or compliments on how good Rebecca’s boobs looked in her blouse.

She just stopped a bit in front of the desk and blurted, ‘I’m freaking the fuck out.’

‘Rather convenient, so am I,’ Rebecca responded immediately. But her friend didn’t react. Instead Keeley’s wide eyes blinked at her, and Rebecca took in how tired, how genuinely frightened, she looked. ‘What is the matter, are you ill?’

‘Come with me.’

‘What, where?’

‘Away. New York.’ Rebecca stood up then, made her way closer to where Keeley was nervously pacing. ‘My friend, Carina, she’s got a gig in Paris for the summer, said I could use her flat downtown if I wanted.’ Rebecca stared at her. ‘We could leave this afternoon.’

‘Keeley, you’re starting to scare me.’

‘Please, let’s just go, I need to be somewhere else.’

‘What about Roy?’ Something flashed across Keeley’s face at the name, but her eyes stayed on Rebecca’s, round and pleading.

‘I just need to go.’ Rebecca took a breath, took a glance out at the summer calm of the pitch beyond her window, considered the possibility she could outrun the churn in her own stomach. Figured it might be worth the attempt.

‘Fuck it, yes. Let’s disappear,’ she said, and had just enough time to brace herself so she didn’t topple backwards when Keeley launched herself into her arms, clinging tightly.

‘Thank you, I love you,’ Keeley said into her shoulder before pulling away. She swiped a stray tear from the corner of her eye then looked at Rebecca. ‘I already bought you a ticket, meet you at Heathrow in three hours?’ She didn’t wait for a response before turning to leave, and Rebecca watched her braid sway behind her while she absorbed the words.

‘We could take the jet,’ she called after her.

‘There’s no time,’ came Keeley’s response from the doorway, where she turned and gave Rebecca one last look before hurrying down the stairs. Rebecca felt a little like she was watching her life from outside her own body as she listened to Keeley’s heels click, felt a trickle of sweat sink down between her shoulder blades in the muggy heat of her office. Scooped up her laptop and her purse and didn’t let herself pause to think of what else she might be leaving behind. Everything and nothing had changed in the last five minutes. And she had just enough time to get home and pack.

Rebecca hadn’t flown commercial in more years than she cared to admit. She hadn’t had to deal with the jostle of the airport, the generally undignified process by which a place like Heathrow transformed someone from a person to a passenger. Their seats were first class though, so once on the plane she felt rather more in her element, found some comfort in the little rituals of organizing her space, trading her shoes for slippers, ordering her first glass of wine to calm the fear of flying she’d never been able to shed entirely. Across the aisle, Keeley was still in the same outfit as earlier in the day. She’d been uncharacteristically quiet, her headphones in as she took in a movie Rebecca suspected she was only pretending to watch. She’d turned away the flight attendant’s offer of a meal, a chicken and rice dish that Rebecca at least politely picked at.

Behind her, a couple Rebecca assumed was off on their honeymoon cooed at each other. She tried not to eavesdrop, tried not to let their syrupy sweetness suffocate her. But every little indication of their togetherness was hard on her heart. She kept an eye on the horizon through her window, the clear sky a comfort and a contrast to the jagged, cloudy loneliness threatening to seep into her bones. Deep breaths. An extra glass of wine. A half dose of an expired anxiety med she’d forgotten she kept in her travel bag, a holdover from the days when any travel she’d done had been a tense, tightly choreographed ordeal. It hadn’t been like that lately- not for the last three years. Travel’d been fun, with the team. With him.

She fell asleep somewhere over the North Atlantic and only woke again to the announcement that they were about to begin their descent into JFK. She wiped a mascara smudge from the corner of her eye and looked across the aisle to Keeley whose own eyes looked puffy, like she’d been crying while Rebecca slept. What a pair the two of them made, tragically comic if not for the fact that the upset was so obviously real. The plane chatter slowly grew louder around them, other passengers antsy to be back on solid ground, bags getting shuffled about, feet stuffed back into shoes. Necks craned against windows in search of that first glimpse of the Manhattan skyline.

Rebecca held her breath in the seconds before landing. The solid thunk of the plane touching down on the runway eased the nervous flier in her. But it also brought her into Ted’s home country, a reality she hadn’t totally prepared herself for. He was still hundreds- thousands, probably, she wasn’t actually too familiar with the finer points of American geography- of miles away, but still. She’d flung herself nearer to his orbit while trying to run away from him. At least she had no memories of him here, in this city she’d always wanted to love but that had never really seemed to love her.

Keeley smiled weakly at her from across the aisle. They gathered their things and stepped off the plane into the stale air and halogen lighting of the airport itself.

When the immigration officer checking her passport asked after the purpose of her trip, Rebecca stumbled over her words for a second before answering. Seemed incorrect to say ‘holiday’ when the atmosphere was far from festive, but it also wasn’t work, and she didn’t think the stern looking woman behind the glass would accept ‘severe emotional turmoil the origins of which are far too complicated to get into but involve a football manager with a mustache’ as a valid reason for entering the country. She settled on ‘sightseeing’ and hoped for the best. The agent stamped her passport and wished her a pleasant visit.

Where London had been hot, New York was positively swamp-like. Downtown, after a too-long cab ride that left Keeley looking nauseous, both women wrestled their hastily-packed bags from the car to the front door of the East Village building Carina had texted Keeley the address of. The air smelled like hot concrete and car exhaust, like weed, and like urine, whether of human or animal origin Rebecca didn’t want to investigate. Keeley fetched her friend’s spare keys from the man behind the counter at the cramped deli next door. The flat turned out to be on the top floor of the five story walk-up building.

‘I take it Carina failed to mention this part,’ Rebecca said as they each lugged a suitcase up the final few stairs.

‘I didn’t ask,’ Keeley said, panting slightly. The flat itself was small, a two bedroom clearly carved out of what had once been a much more generous space, the view from the kitchen just a jungle of fire escapes against grey brick. But it had a degree of charm to it, all slightly slanted wood floors and high ceilings and a heroic if largely ineffective little window unit air conditioner that sputtered to life when Rebecca found the power button.
Keeley promptly claimed the back bedroom and disappeared, closing the door behind her.

‘Are you going to want dinner?’ Rebecca called after her, taking in the cozy dimensions of the remaining bedroom. She was fairly sure when she laid down on the bed she’d be able to touch the opposite walls at the same time.

‘Not hungry,’ came Keeley’s answer. Rebecca sighed. She wanted to eat and she wanted to sleep and what she settled on instead was a cold shower followed by clean clothes and a few minutes spent poking around Carina’s kitchen cabinets long enough to discover all she’d left was a half a bag of sugar and a box of instant oatmeal. Rebecca knocked on the door Keeley’d disappeared behind.

‘I’m going to get us some food. Anything you’d like?’

‘Ice cream, if you can find it,’ was her answer. ‘And tea.’

Back down the endless sets of stairs and the first thing Rebecca saw when she made it to the sidewalk was a family of tourists, the mother studying a map while her son munched a soft pretzel. The father wore a Wichita State Schockers t-shirt, and Rebecca wanted to cry.

Their first few days in the city slipped by in slow motion. Rebecca stripped down to her underwear to try and sleep in the stuffy heat of the tiny bedroom, lying awake on top of the sheets in the middle of the night listening to the dark city soundtrack of sirens and occasional drunken laughter. She cooked eggs for breakfast and pasta for dinner and carried plates of each to Keeley where she remained holed up in her room, emerging only occasionally to dash to the bathroom. Mostly she wandered the city on her own, covering miles each day with no specific direction or plan, just letting the overwhelming crush of humanity absorb her until she forgot she was anything but one body amidst 8.9 million other bodies, blisters on her heels and sweat stains on her shirt. She started to understand the appeal of New York, how in its chaos it soothed a specific kind of anxiety. On their fourth night, the hottest yet, she sought air-conditioned refuge at a small, quiet bar not far from their flat, ordered a gin and tonic and sat directly under the coolest blast of air she could find. The bartender kept glancing at her as she nursed her drink alone. She texted Flo a photo of her glass with a little ‘cheers’ emoji just for something to do before remembering it was very late back home, and sliding her phone back in her pocket.

When she ordered a refill the bartender handed it to her with a raised eyebrow.

‘New in the neighborhood?’ he asked, and she cocked her head at him. ‘The accent’s a bit of a giveaway, but also,’ he gestured at the small handful of regulars scattered around the bar, ‘don’t think I’ve seen you in here before, and I’m sure I would have noticed.’ Rebecca shrugged, took a sip of her fresh drink.

‘Here for now,’ she said.

‘Mysterious. I like it,’ he said and winked at her, and she recognized he was flirting with her, that he was objectively attractive if not necessarily what she usually considered her type. And that in normal circumstances Keeley would be right next to her coaxing her to go for it. She could almost see it. Sticking around for another few drinks, kissing him up against the bar after closing, getting a better look at the tattoo she could just see the edge of under the sleeve of his shirt. But these were not normal circumstances. She finished her drink and left a too-big tip.

Back at the flat, thighs burning from the trip upstairs, Rebecca found Keeley sitting in the dark on the couch, curled around a pint of ice cream in one of what must have been Roy’s tshirts.

The two women just looked at each other silently for a moment. Rebecca moved to kick her shoes off, flinching as one hit a still-tender blister, and Keeley flung her ice cream aside and flew back to the bathroom where a second later Rebecca could hear the distinct sound of her being sick. She switched on a light beside the couch and stood so that when Keeley emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, looking smaller than Rebecca had ever seen her look, she was in between her and the bedroom.

‘You ready to talk about what’s going on with you?’ Keeley shrank even further into herself but nodded.

‘I’m pregnant.’ And it’s what Rebecca had mostly expected to hear, what wasn’t hard to piece together from Keeley’s particular set of symptoms, but the words still sucked the air out of the room for a second.

‘Oh my god, Keeley.’ She crossed the small kitchen to wrap her arms around her friend, letting Keeley sag against her in silence for a few minutes. ‘How long have you known? How far along?’ She ran a hand through the lengths of Keeley’s hair, her questions whispered into the top of her head. She felt Keeley flinch.

‘I don’t know.’ Rebecca pulled back to look at her face.

‘Have you taken a test? Seen a doctor?’ Keeley shook her head, not meeting Rebecca’s eyes.

‘I was switching pills. Mine was making me crazy. I was so sad and so fucking angry all the time. And it must have happened in there somewhere, when I stopped taking it.’

‘But you haven’t confirmed it?’ Keeley shook her head again.

‘Wasn’t ready.’ Rebecca snorted softly, amused even despite everything that Keeley’d thought it easier to jump ship to another continent rather than pee on a plastic stick.

‘Well, we’re going to find out now. Together.’ She turned back to her shoes, and Keeley moved as if to stop her, but Rebecca waved her off. ‘There’s an all night pharmacy down the street. I bought gummy bears there the other night, of all things. And I’m going to go and get you a test, and you’re going to take it.’ Keeley slunk back onto the couch, accepting her fate.

Rebecca walked through the aisles of Duane Reade with a purpose, dodging the few stray New Yorkers looking pale in the overhead lights as they picked up Doritos and cold medicine and tampons. But when she found the shelf of pregnancy tests she froze. It had been a long time since she’d bought one for herself, a long time since she’d optimistically tucked a few into a bathroom cabinet as a newlywed, in hopes she’d be needing them. And there were so many kinds she had no idea where to start. She settled on the most expensive, figuring there was no reason to skimp on something this important. She picked up another pack of gummy bears while she was at it.

The bored young man working the register barely looked up at her as he rang up her purchases, her own personal dramas completely inconsequential to him.

She read the test instructions three times, once to herself and twice out loud to Keeley. Keeley who didn’t even bother to close the bathroom door all the way when she finally took it. Then Rebecca set a timer on her phone and both women sat on the couch to wait. Neither knew what to say. Rebecca fidgeted with her rings for a minute then gave in and tore open her newly purchased candy for something to distract herself. A spoonful of sugar and medicine and all that.

‘Gummy bear?’ She offered the open bag to Kelley beside her.

‘I can’t keep anything down. No one tells you morning sickness isn’t only for the morning.’ Rebecca hummed in acknowledgement, popping a few more into her mouth.
‘Didn’t know you liked them though, they’re a bit childish aren’t they?’ And for the first time since they arrived Rebecca could see a hint of the Keeley she knew so well, a small smile playing on her face.

‘Yes, well, Ted always liked them,’ she said without thinking. ‘Rather vile little things really, but I guess he got me hooked.’ Keeley looked at her.

‘He did uncover your sweet tooth didn’t he? How is Ted by the way?’ Rebecca’s stomach dropped, but she was saved from having to answer by the chiming of her phone alarm. She stayed seated while Keeley padded barefoot back into the bathroom. ‘It’s real,’ she said after a long moment, tossing the test stick onto the tiny coffee table in front of them and crawling into Rebecca’s lap before she’d even had a chance to set aside her sweets. Rebecca could just make out the word ‘pregnant’ in all caps from over Keeley’s shoulder.

‘You aren’t happy about it?’ she said, more of a statement than a question, as she felt Keeley shake in her arms.

‘I don’t know.’

‘Roy doesn’t know?’ Keeley shook her head, and Rebecca rocked her gently, remembering doing nearly the same thing for Flo when she’d found out she was expecting Nora. Even then, they’d known Darren wasn’t Prince Charming. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’

Keeley didn’t move at first and Rebecca had time to wonder how exactly they moved on from here, from what felt like a hinge moment in their friendship. Then she pulled away enough to look Rebecca in the eye.

‘I guess I should, yeah?’ Rebecca tried to smile at her.

‘Come here, you,’ she said, turning her until she fit in front of her on the couch, Keeley’s back to her chest, arms and legs tangled together. Outside, the wail of a firetruck went by, its lights painting the flat in shades of red for a second as it went. ‘You don’t have to do it, you know. We could get you an appointment. Here even. This country’s barbaric to women, but this particular city at least a little less so.’ Keeley squeezed her hand where she held it against her chest.

‘I know. I’ve done it. Twice, actually. Sorry I never told you.’ She paused, then went on. ‘First time I was eighteen yeah, barely out of school, no money. Didn’t have to think about it. Second was a few years after that. I had some money by then, but I just wanted to spend it on me, you know? Plus, the bloke I was seeing was never gonna be a dad.’ Rebecca nodded, her head tucked alongside Keeley’s where they sat. Keeley went quiet then, and Rebecca practiced her breathing, tried to stay steady for her friend’s sake. ‘I’m not eighteen anymore though. Or twenty three.’

‘Do you want to be a mum?’

‘I don’t think I’d know how to do it.’ It wasn’t an answer, but Rebecca let it go, waiting for Keeley to continue. She did after a moment. ‘My mum,’ she said and pulled her knees up, her long tshirt stretched over them, ‘my mum wasn’t the best at it.’ That part of her life she’d shared with Rebecca. The part where her mother yelled, her mother disappeared into drug fueled hazes for long stretches of time. The part where she never fully understood her smart, spirited daughter or how to guide her, how to love her. ‘What if I ended up like her?’ Keeley asked to the open space in front of her, the question laced through with years of heartache.

‘I left Rupert,’ Rebecca said after a beat. Keeley twisted to look at her, confusion etched in her face. ‘I left him. It took me too long, and I never should have married him in the first place, but I left him. My mum never left my father, not for real.’ She watched Keeley’s eyes widen in recognition. ‘Darling, we don’t have to turn into our mothers.’ She offered her a crooked smile. ‘For what it’s worth, I think you’d be a tremendous mum, if you wanted to be.’

‘Do you?’

‘Of course.’ Keeley smiled slightly and turned back around, keeping herself tucked close. ‘And Roy loves you.’

‘I know he does. Freaks me out sometimes, how much he does.’

‘Doesn’t mean you have to do it.’ They sat with that for a moment.

‘I should talk to him,’ Keeley said, a note of confidence in her voice that hadn’t been there earlier.

‘One of your better ideas,’ Rebecca said, teasing slightly. Then, ‘Speaking of Roy, and in the spirit of sharing secrets, has he ever told you…’ She was cut off by Keeley’s immediate reply.

‘What, that you two shagged? Yes, though would have been better to hear it from you.’ She laughed a little and nudged Rebecca’s leg with her own.

‘It was a long time ago.’ In the fresh, early days of her separation before it could even be called a divorce, when all she’d wanted was someone to listen, someone to make her feel like she might still be desirable. Roy’d excelled at both, and then he’d made her breakfast in the morning.

‘I know.’ Keeley looked up at her again. ‘I should maybe find it weird, but honestly it’s kinda hot.’ Rebecca choked on a laugh, relieved more than anything that her friend was finding her humor again.

They sat there another while longer, the hum of the air conditioner louder against the late-night quiet of the city outside. Rebecca felt slightly singed, slightly sore, Keeley’s body warm against her own. They watched the pint of mint-chocolate chip melt slowly on the coffee table, neither of them making a move to rescue it until finally Keeley yawned and stretched and stood up, disentangling herself from Rebecca’s arms.

‘Little parasite needs its beauty sleep,’ she said, depositing the half-melted ice cream back into the freezer.

‘Sleep well.’ Rebecca watched her fill a glass of water at the kitchen sink before pausing at the bedroom door.

‘Do you ever think about it, really? About if it was the two of us instead?’ Keeley asked with an amused tilt of her head, conveying the joke that it was, but there was an underlying whisper of sincerity to it that tugged at Rebecca’s heart.

‘Honey, every day.’ Her reply brought out Keeley’s smile.

‘Good.’ She nodded. ‘Good night.’ She pulled the bedroom door closed behind her, leaving Rebecca alone. She always seemed to end up alone.

The next few days Rebecca kept up her walking. She circled the whole reservoir in Central Park, watched the sunset from a pier on the Hudson, stuck her feet in the fountain in Washington Square alongside dozens of other tourists and locals alike. Keeley joined her sometimes now too, having developed a specific craving for dirty water hot dogs with extra mustard, which she ate as they walked. She always offered Rebecca a bite, and Rebecca always scrunched up her nose at the offer. It stormed when they tried to walk the Brooklyn Bridge at sunset, leaving them soaked and hysterical with laughter. They returned back to the flat each evening tired and a little sunburnt, grateful for the way the city wore a person out.

Keeley would retreat back to her room then, her voice muffled by the door as she spoke on the phone through long rambling conversations with Roy that Rebecca desperately wanted to eavesdrop on but couldn’t bring herself to. There’d been no further mention of the possibility of impending parenthood. But there was an afternoon they found themselves back at the same Duane Reade on the corner so Rebecca could pick up more overly sugary American candy and a box of plasters for her healing blisters, and Keeley had casually dropped a bottle of prenatal vitamins onto the register and shrugged at Rebecca’s raised eyebrows, the corner of her mouth tugged up just slightly.

‘They can’t hurt anything,’ she said, and Rebecca nodded, fighting her own smile. She’d paid for the vitamins right alongside her Starbursts and her Skittles and her first aid supplies.

For a while she puttered around in the flat while Keeley was on the phone in the evenings, watching American television and scrolling aimlessly through Twitter. But she was lonely in a way that hurt too much to sit still and didn’t entirely trust herself unsupervised around the internet, so soon she was back in the same seat at the bar down the street, the same bartender working his shift. He greeted her with a too-white smile when she sat down.

‘To what do we owe the pleasure this evening?’ he asked as he handed over her drink. ‘Special occasion?’ His sleeves were shorter than they’d been, and Rebecca smirked to discover his tattoo was an elaborate mermaid figure.

‘Nothing in particular, just bloody hot in my flat.’ She took a long sip of her drink and added, almost as if it surprised her to remember, ‘Birthday is tomorrow though.’ The bartender grinned and held out a glass of water of his own.

‘Cheers, then.’ She indulged him in the gesture. It wasn’t that she’d forgotten her birthday, just that it snuck up on her more quickly than she was used to. She’d never cared much about getting older until the people around her, or really one specific person, started telling her she should care, that it was part of the natural way of things to fight against aging rather than embrace it. She pampered herself because she could afford it and enjoyed it, and sometimes she looked at Keeley’s fifteen-years-younger skin with a twinge of nostalgia bordering on jealousy, but all in all she didn’t consider it necessary to try to fool others into believing she was years younger than she was. She’d seen up close how miserable that made some women, how much time and energy it required that could be spent on things you really loved, on living life rather than dreading it. The previous year Ted had brought her an extra box of biscuits in the morning, had burst through her door later in the afternoon with Henry on FaceTime to help him sing ‘Happy Birthday.’ Keeley’d taken her dancing. It’d felt good to celebrate another year around the sun alongside the two people who came closest to sunshine personified. And Roy, who’d been on hand to roll his eyes and pass off water and paracetamol to her and Keeley when they’d tripped home late, giggly and drunk.

Her gin and tonic went down smoothly, and the bar slowly filled up around her, a growing crowd marking the end of a long week. Rebecca wondered what it might be like to stay, to become one of these people who sought refuge at this corner bar, with its neon in the window and popcorn machine in the back corner, rather than the Crown and Anchor. Wondered if she’d get to know them the way she had the regulars at home, learn who couldn’t hold their liquor and who had families waiting up for them at home and who didn’t. She sat with the idea for a minute. There were drinkers with bland American accents all around, loud and brash, a handful of distinctive sounding native New Yorkers with their os and their as all stretched out, a couple somewhere behind her having a passionate debate in Spanish. But there was no Mae behind the bar conducting business as precisely as if she was conducting an elite orchestra, no football fans drowning their sorrows and joys alike in their pints. No dart board and certainly no one in khakis charming everyone around him in a heavy Kansan drawl. It was a good place to disappear to, not one to come home to.

The bartender was busier with the new influx of patrons, and she watched him work. He was pleasant to everyone who ordered, efficient, with a shorthand for those who must come often. He kept handing her fresh drinks each time the glass in front of her neared empty and she kept drinking them, the ice and the lime sharp in her mouth. She wanted to want him, wanted some sign she might get over what she was missing, but she didn’t. This man was an abstract figure in her life, a possibility, not unlike the way Luca had been, even Sam. What she wanted was real and solid and she’d ruined any chance she’d ever had with him.
Too many drinks later she left another too big tip and slipped off the bar stool on wobbly legs, summoned a slight smile for the bartender’s parting, ‘Happy birthday, blondie,’ as she left. Despite how late it had gotten, the city was still wide awake around her as she walked back to the flat, people out drinking and in search of Friday night antics but also still out just living their lives, going to work and getting groceries, and she felt an overwhelming surge of affection for this ridiculous place where no one even glanced twice at the tall British woman crying by herself.

Keeley was asleep when she made it home, and Rebecca fell into bed without bothering to take her make up off. It was well passed midnight. She was officially another year older.

Rebecca woke in the morning to a loud buzzing noise. Her head felt stuffed full of cotton, and the light through the bedroom’s single window was strong enough she knew she’d slept later than she usually did. Neither of those things explained the persistent noise occurring just outside the bedroom door. She pushed her hair out of her eyes and struggled to her feet, but by the time she staggered into the living room Keeley was there, frantically pushing buttons on the box by the front door that Rebecca now recognized as an extremely low budget intercom system. Keeley got the right button after a second and a staticky ‘Delivery’ came through the speaker. The two women looked at each other then the door as a minute later an out of breath delivery worker appeared holding a wrapped bouquet of flowers. He handed them over to Keeley who had the presence of mind to reach into her purse and come out with a handful of bills she handed over as tip before the door clicked shut behind him and Rebecca’s brain finally caught up to the situation.

Keeley was dressed for the day as though she’d been up for a while, her flowy sundress loose on her tiny frame and her hair up in a ponytail. She set the flowers on the kitchen table and fussed about unwrapping them gently. There were sunflowers and shocks of pink and purple, delicate little white buds. The perfect distillation of summer joy in flower form, and Rebecca was happy for Keeley that she had Roy, really. Relieved that their situation must have been improving. But she couldn’t watch, couldn’t see this physical representation of what she herself lacked and moved to turn away, maybe to go back to bed for a few hours.

She turned back around quickly though when Keeley let out a small squeal of surprise. ‘Oh, babe, these are few you.’ She held up the little card she’d apparently found tucked into the paper, Rebecca’s name printed out on the front of the envelope. She took it and opened it with shaking hands, Keeley watching her closely.

Happy Birthday, Beautiful
I Love You
-Ted

The pounding in her head only picked up as she stared at the words in front of her. ‘How did he…’ she trailed off and picked up the flowers themselves, turning them round as though they might give up secrets. ‘How did he know I was here?’

Keeley looked at her. ‘Roy, I think. He said something about a long-distance Diamond Dogs meeting the other day.’

‘Is Roy alright?’

‘Roy’s fine, or he will be. Not the issue right now.’ Keeley reached for her friend’s arm. ‘Babe, you finally ready to tell me why you haven’t been speaking to Ted?’ And just like that, Rebecca’s face crumbled and she burst into tears.

‘I ruined everything, Keeley.’

‘That can’t be true.’ Keeley took the flowers from her, setting them down on the table again before steering them both to the couch. Rebecca had the fleeting thought she might need to tell Carina her couch was cursed if she ever met her. ‘What happened?’ Keeley asked as they sat, each of them cross legged facing each other. ‘We know what my deal is,’ she said, a hand pressed protectively to her belly, ‘Now what’s going on with you?’ Rebecca worked on reeling in her tears, wiping at her face with the hem of her sleep shirt and watching the smudges of yesterday’s make up come away with them. She sniffed and looked at her friend, the well of concern bright in her eyes. There was no use trying to weasel out of the conversation now, and Rebecca knew deep down she didn’t want to. But she still decided to work her way in slowly, the old instinct to keep things close still strong despite everything.

‘Have you talked to Ted lately?’ she asked, voice wobbly. Keeley cocked her head.

‘Litle bit, yeah. We text.’

‘He hasn’t said anything?’

‘Babe, you know I adore Ted, but we mostly send each other memes. You’re the one he actually talks to.’ Keeley winced when she realized what she said.

‘Right.’ Rebecca shifted in her seat, crossing her legs up on the coffee table and closed her eyes so she didn’t have to see every micro emotion in Keeley’s face while she told the story. Her head still hurt. ‘I slept with Ted,’ she said. When no reaction came from beside her she turned her head slightly and opened an eye. Keeley just waved her hand, gesturing for her to keep going. She took another deep breath. ‘The night of the last match.’

It had been a nail biter of a game, the team locked in a tight battle for most of their time on the pitch, neither side getting a goal in until the last five minutes when Jamie seemed to tap into a fresh well of energy and put one neatly into the top right corner of the net like it was nothing, the team engulfing him in hugs when the final whistle blew. Even Roy’s smile was visible from all the way up in the owner’s box. Rebecca had been a nervous mess, trying to balance her genuine enthusiasm for a win with not putting undue pressure on her boys, knowing she’d be just as proud of them for a well-fought loss. All while avoiding the pile of paperwork on her desk reminding her that Ted’s initial three year contract was rapidly coming to end and he’d made no mention to her either way of his feelings on renewal. But he had a son in America, a life she’d plucked him from in her fit of revenge, and she knew it was selfish to expect him to stay away from it forever. Even if she’d lately been day-dreaming that he would. That he’d stay in rainy Richmond for the team of course, but also for her.

She’d hugged him when they won, had run down with Keeley to the pitch and let herself get caught up in the energy of the team. Let Roy spin her around, Beard kiss her on the forehead, Isaac and Dani bow down to her like the Queen herself had appeared at Nelson Road. And then there he was, smile so big it threatened to spill off his face entirely as he swept her up into his arms. He smelled like sweat and the club’s laundry soap, and she could feel the adrenaline pumping through him.

‘Congratulations, Coach Lasso,’ she’d said, practically yelling to be heard over the din of the crowd. ‘You did it.’

‘We did it, boss,’ he’d replied, pulling back to beam at her and to high five Jan, but he kept his other arm close around her. Kept it there through the rest of the on-field shenanigans and as the team eventually started moving their way towards the tunnels and the locker rooms. She let herself lean into him. They separated briefly while the boys changed, when he let her go with a quick squeeze of her waist and shooed her up to her office to take a few congratulatory calls from a few minority owners.

Higgins had popped a bottle of champagne while they waited for one particularly chatty investor to hang up, and Rebecca was two glasses in before they made their way to the Crown and Anchor to join the rest of the team in celebration. The pub was full, overflowing with the team and the hordes of awe-struck fans spilling out onto the streets of Richmond beyond. Rebecca fought her way through the crush to a corner table where Keeley was perched on Roy’s lap, her arms looped around his neck, and there was just enough space for Rebecca to fit beside Ted. He held his arm out in invitation and smiled at her as she tucked herself into his side, ignoring any pointed looks from Keeley or fond amusement from Beard. She’d vowed in that moment not to think about the flight to Kansas she knew he had booked for the next day. Back in time for Henry’s last day of school, he’d told her with excitement over biscuits with the boss a few weeks back. She was going to enjoy her last night and grieve later.

Drinks kept appearing in front of her, whether it was one or another of the team depositing them on the table or Keeley, citing stomach ache, pushing her own across the way into Rebecca’s hands. She felt warm and floaty, Ted’s fingers drawing circles on her hip her only anchor to the real world. Ted, who she had noticed, had hardly touched his own drinks, nursing the same two pints through the evening and who kept looking at her with such softness she could have started crying right there at their table if she wasn’t so determine to put off all sadness until he was safely out of arms reach on that airplane in the morning.

Eventually, the team had drifted away, splitting up to celebrate further at the clubs. Beard slipped out with a tip of his hat. Roy took an uncharacteristically tired Keeley home to get some sleep, having something of a conversation all in eye contact with Ted in the process, one Rebecca was too tipsy to understand as they all stepped out into the cool night air.

‘Well boss, I guess this is goodnight,’ Ted said, turning to face her.

‘Let me walk you home?’ She said, and moved out of his grasp only far enough to loop her arm through his, pulling herself into his side. She’d traded her heels for flats back at the office, and without them they were equally matched in height. She quirked a smile at him, silently acknowledging the role reversal, and he seemed to find whatever reassurance he was looking for in her face.

‘Well alright then.’ They walked slowly, like they had all the time in the world. It felt later than it actually was, the day having peaked early with the rush of the win. The city was quiet in contrast to the warm chaos of the pub, neither of them willing to disturb the peace for the first part of their walk.

‘Ted, tell me something,’ she said to him as they neared his flat.

‘Anything.’

‘Did you really think you could do it? Win the whole fucking thing, I mean?’ He laughed at the question, a rich laugh, one of his real ones that meant she’d surprised him. It delighted her when she managed it.

Ted stopped them then, just a few doors down from his own. She stumbled slightly, caught unaware and just tipsy enough where coordination was more difficult, and he smiled at her as he turned to face her, his hands at her hips. She registered the music a moment later, something bluesy and soft from an open window nearby. His eyes crinkled when she lifted her arms to his shoulders, the two of them linked in middle school slow dance form on the darkened cobble stones. He swayed them gently, humming along to the tune she didn’t recognize. Rebecca let herself look into his eyes, to study him the way he seemed to be studying her, still shoving down deep the impulse to run, to cut her loses before anyone got irreparably hurt.

‘Honestly?’ he said after a bit, when Rebecca’d nearly forgotten she’d asked him a question to start with. ‘I only ever wanted to make you happy.’ And she couldn’t look at him then, couldn’t bear the way the words made her feel. She stepped closer, tipped her head against his so they were cheek to cheek instead of eye to eye, felt him tighten his grip on her. But she couldn’t stop the handful of tears that erupted. And of course he noticed, even hidden in his shoulder as they were. She sniffled and he pulled away, already running a thumb across the tear tracks on her face. ‘Didn’t mean to make you sad, boss.’

‘I don’t want to be sad tonight,’ she said. Ted dropped his hand, moved to let her go and step back.

‘I should let you get home, get some rest.’ But she was having none of that. She was wired and devastated and exhilarated and not at all ready to say goodbye to the man in front of her, not when she still had one last night of possibilities in front of her.

‘No, Ted.’ She wiped the tears from her face roughly with the back of her wrist, stepped back into his space, wound a hand into his sweater to hold him in place. Looked him in the eye, not bothering to hide the storm of emotions she knew were lighting her face and making her feel invincible and fragile at once. ‘I don’t want to be sad tonight.’

He looked at her for a long moment. Didn’t touch her. She wasn’t sure he was even breathing.

When he finally spoke again it was with a question. ’Would you want to come in for a drink?’ he asked, softly, like despite everything she was trying to give him he still wasn’t sure if he was reading her wrong.

‘Yes.’ He nodded at her, fished his keys from his pocket as they crossed the last bit of street to his front door. The music they’d danced to was still playing; Rebecca could just make it out over the rush of her own heartbeat. She wished she knew the song, wished she’d be able to recreate the experience of it long after she had no specific reason to be dawdling on this stretch of road late into the evening.

Ted surprised her when they got upstairs. He offered her help in taking off the light jacket she’d thrown on against the spring weather, stepping behind her to slide it off and then, before she could process what was happening, he’d scooped her hair away to one side to kiss the newly uncovered skin where her shoulder met her neck. Her shocked shiver made him chuckle against her. And suddenly it felt like the most natural thing in the world to spin around, to loop her arms back around his neck until they were nose to nose.

‘Quite a move, Coach Lasso,’ she said and watched as he grinned and his blush crept up his cheeks. She laughed, and he tickled her, his hands on her ribs, and then they were kissing, whether she kissed him or he kissed her first entirely irrelevant as they fell into the joy of it. Her coat ended up on the floor, her shoes followed it.
She slid a hand into his hair, one of his found the bare skin of her back beneath her shirt. More than once they had to break their kiss to laugh, to press their mouths to cheeks, jawlines, sink their teeth softly into earlobes, learning the taste and feel of each other up close after so long being separated by a desk and a whole host of insecurities. Ted’s flat was dark, and he navigated them seamlessly through to his bedroom, kissing her all the while. Once there she leaned into him as she sought the end to his endless layers of clothing, pulling jumper and shirt and t-shirt from the waist of his trousers. ‘Entirely too many shirts,’ she said, laughing as she fumbled with the buttons, fingers far too eager to be smooth, cursing to herself. He laughed as he watched.

‘You good? I could go get us those drinks I promised while you work on that,’ he pointed a hand towards the kitchen.

‘Don’t you dare.’ She glared at him and pulled, enough pressure that the remaining few buttons popped and scattered onto the floor of the bedroom. It was his turn to shiver in surprise then, and when she pushed the shirt off his shoulders and pulled the last layer over his head he was warm and alive under her hands. Some part of
Rebecca couldn’t quite believe the man in front of her was Ted. She’d spent so long compartmentalizing, so long trying to keep whatever feelings for him she had separate from the reality of him. But he was real, and he was looking at her with electricity in his eyes as he wordlessly asked for permission to lift her own blouse over her head. She gave it with a nod and followed his move by unzipping her own skirt and letting it fall to the floor.

Rebecca had worked hard to feel at home in her skin. She didn’t always succeed, but she’d learned in the previous few years that she could mostly expect a certain type of reaction from the men she chose to take to bed once her clothes were off. It varied slightly from man to man but generally involved some combination of awe and testosterone-fueled want, and it could veer into the lecherous if they weren’t actively trying to avoid it. But she stood in front of Ted in her third best set of red lingerie and he was… smiling at her. ‘What?’ she said, fighting off a wave of self-consciousness in the dim light of the bedroom.

Ted must have sensed her nerves because he reached out then and touched her, warm hands on her hips as he pulled her closer. ‘Nothing. Just having a hard time believing you’re real is all.’ His eyes were dark when they met hers, and she could see it in them, that deep want she was looking for.

‘I was just thinking the same thing about you,’ she said and kissed the smile off his face. He was a good kisser and she could have let herself get lost in it, spent the night just memorizing the different ways their mouths fit together. But their time remaining was short, and she’d come too far not to find out how else they fit together. ‘Ted,’ she gasped as one of his hands slid down over her ass under the silk of her knickers. ‘Take me to bed, please.’

‘Well if you’re going to ask so nicely.’ He walked her backwards another few feet until the mattress hit the backs of her knees, laid her out against his sheets, paused to rid himself of his khakis before crawling up after her in only his boxers and bright white athletic socks

‘The socks are a good look, really working for you,’ she teased as she wrapped her own legs around him, tilted her head to give him better access to her neck where he was pressing a line of open-mouthed kisses. He huffed out a laugh.

‘You’re in my bed, forgive me if I couldn’t even tell you if I am actually wearing socks right now.’

‘Are you saying I’m distracting?’ She knew she’d have a bruise on her neck in the morning but couldn’t bear to stop him.

‘Mhmmmm,’ he picked his head up to look at her. ‘Saying maybe I’m a little more concerned with what you are or aren’t wearing.’ He leaned his weight to one elbow so he could cup one of her breasts in his hand, his thumb stroking her through the buttersoft silk of her bra. ‘For example, this is real pretty.’ The corner of his mouth twitched up as he batted his eye lashes at her.

‘But you’d rather I lose it.’

‘Oh, yes please.’ She laughed as she sat up half way to unhook the flimsy garment behind her back and drop it back over the edge of the bed. Ted wasted no time then in showing his appreciation, his mouth and hands on her immediately. He touched her with a confidence she hadn’t quite expected, like he already knew her body and what she liked. Her own body reacted faster than usual, warmth pooling in her belly and limbs going loose as he laved at one breast then the other. He kept talking to her, murmuring things into her skin she couldn’t make out, wasn’t sure if they were truly words or just a sort of audible affection, like touch alone wasn’t enough for someone like Ted. ‘These are real pretty too,’ he said a while later, his head suddenly even with her hips as he traced the waistband of her knickers, the last bit of clothing she wore.

‘I want them off as much as you do.’ She sighed and her eyes slammed shut when he kissed her through the silk.

‘Hard to believe that’s true, but I hear you,’ he said then, peeling them down and off her legs. He tried to spend some time on her legs on his way back to her, mouthed at her ankles, kissed her right calf, but Rebecca was restless, too on fire for him to be patient and she squirmed, using her considerable strength to try and urge him back up her body. He got the hint and leaned forward, the air of his laughter against where she was most sensitive, and she shook with the feel of it. The first stroke of his tongue had her clutching the duvet and lifting her hips.

She’d thought maybe he’d tease her, draw it out, but suddenly she was already so close, and he seemed to sense it, setting to his task with deadly precision. She broke apart with a gasp around two of his fingers, his mouth gentling but not lifting until she’d stopped shaking, her sense of time and place disrupted. Nothing mattered to her in that moment beyond the way he was touching her and the possibility that it would continue.

He kissed the crease of her thigh then and crawled back up her body, close, the drag of his chest hair against her belly and breasts kindling a fresh wave of desire. She could feel his need for her where his hips pressed into her own, and it made her whine. He seemed ready to wait for her though, his focus on her alone despite the tension simmering beneath his skin everywhere she ran her hands. So she sent one hand lower to feel the still-clothed shape of him, and the noise he let out at her touch made her smile into his kiss and run her hand over him again, enjoying the weight of him.

‘You trying to kill me?’ he mumbled against her mouth.

‘Just trying to get what I want.’

‘That so?’ He lightly pulled her hand away by her wrist, his mouth working a new spot below her ear. ‘Maybe I wasn’t done with you yet.’

She laughed and rolled her hips up against him, sparks shooting along her spine at the contact. ‘I’m a very persistent woman.’ He growled at her but sat up, stumbling to his feet and pulling down his boxers, the last layer of clothing left between them. ‘Lose the socks too,’ she added and laughed as he hopped from one foot to another removing them and flinging them to the floor before landing back beside her on the bed. She took advantage of his movement to lay him flat, to fit herself over him.

He went willingly. Met her eyes and reached up to push a section of her hair out of her face. There was still so much unabashed joy in his gaze, an emotion she didn’t quite know how to process in the context of sex. Sex was a lot of things, but she’d never considered it something that could be flat out fun. It made sense though. Ted had a way of making even the most boring of work events or awkward of moments fun. So she smiled at him as she leaned down to kiss him, met his answering grin in return, both of them smiling too much to truly kiss.

Until she reached between them to line them up and let herself sink down onto him. Then they both gasped, mirth giving way to pure sensation. The stretch of him felt good, the way he held her by the hips as she adjusted even more so, full of a patience and trust that overwhelmed her. Slowly, she started to move, her hips searching out the right rhythm as she rocked against him. She didn’t need to perform for him, didn’t need to spare any extra energy to worrying about how she looked while she chased the fire kindling in her belly. And still he spun an endless stream of praise as he worked to match the rise and fall of her body against his, compliments to her shape, her strength, her touch, all of which she had no problem believing were true coming from Ted.

With the addition of his thumb tight against her her rhythm faltered until the touch was enough to send her over the edge for the second time that night, her body tightening around him as he whispered how glorious she was into her ear. When she opened her eyes again he was stroking her back, letting her lean her whole weight across his chest. She couldn’t not kiss him, flexed her muscles against him where he was still hard inside her just to make him gasp.

‘Fuck.’ The singular curse, such a rarity from him, said like it was forced from his mouth for lack of any other option. She grinned and nosed at his jaw.

‘It’s okay. Let go, Ted.’ He rolled them and suddenly she was the one looking up at him, his hair disheveled across his forehead and a thin sheen of sweat on his chest. He’d never looked better to her. He sought his own release then, her legs tight around him as he moved. It didn’t take long before his hips sputtered and he was spilling himself against her belly, warm and a strangely emotional mix of conscientious and possessive Rebecca couldn’t think too closely about.

He kissed her then, unconcerned about the mess, mouth gentle and content against hers, like he’d been kissing her after sex for a lifetime. After a few lazy minutes she nudged him off her so she could use the bathroom, clean up a bit. It was in the bright light of his bathroom that reality threatened to intrude. She didn’t know what time it was, but she also hadn’t planned beyond this point, to not miss her chance to have him while she still could.

But once she’d rinsed off, splashed some water on her face and stepped back out into the bedroom cautiously, Ted had righted the sheets and put on a pair of flannel pajama pants. He held out the matching top to her.

‘Figured this might be more comfortable to sleep in than anything you had on you,’ he said, and there was a note of caution in his voice, like he wasn’t entirely sure she’d agree to take it or even agree to stay. She almost didn’t. Considered for half a second just leaving then, making a clean break. But she couldn’t while he was still sitting there holding the shirt out to her, so she took it, slipped it on. Did a little spin like she was modeling it just to make him smile. ‘Looks good, boss.’

Climbing back into bed with him felt dangerous, but she fought the alarm bells off, held out an arm to him so he could lay his head on her chest. He nuzzled against her, taking deep breaths that soothed her. She wanted to stay awake, maybe all night if she could, every last minute she had. She fell asleep faster than she had in ages.

But she woke before him. It was early, the light outside soft and damp yet. Ted had moved off of her while they slept, but not away. He was still curled alongside her, his face turned against her shoulder and arm across her belly. She thought about how rare it was to witness a truly still Ted Lasso. He was usually moving in one manner or another, whether in big ways like racing the boys on the pitch or smaller ones like the fidgeting he did when he was nervous or uncomfortable in a situation. But asleep he seemed peaceful.

Rebecca gave herself a few minutes to lay there with him, listening to the rain on the windows, keeping her focus solely on the warmth of him beside her and the lingering pleasant soreness in her body that betrayed what they’d gotten up to in the night. Once the clock on the night table ticked over five minutes, she braced herself and slid from beneath his arm and out of bed. She gathered her clothes from where she’d dropped them and clicked the bathroom door shut quietly before turning on the light.

She squinted into the mirror at her reflection, all mussed hair and flushed skin, the cuffs of Ted’s sleep shirt just that much too long. She looked happy, which felt like a betrayal from her body. She got dressed in yesterday’s clothes and debated for a moment if brushing her teeth with the blue toothbrush beside the sink would be crossing a line before deciding against it. When she tiptoed into the living room she nearly tripped over something heavy on the floor in the half darkness of the room. A suitcase. Once she’d caught her balance she saw the other one beside it, packed and ready for the airport. She must have made a noise, a yelp or a cry, she didn’t know what, because then there was Ted beside her, still shirtless and with stubble shadowed cheeks looking like the most perfect person she’d ever seen. She had to pull herself together.

‘You okay out here?’ he asked, reaching for her like he didn’t know how to exist anymore without touching her. She shifted her weight away from him.

‘Yes, I- ‘ she stumbled over her words as she tried to reply, nothing seeming adequate to the moment. ‘Was just returning this,’ she settled on, holding up the shirt she’d slept in and starting to fold it distractedly.

‘Honey, you don’t have to leave, I still got a while till Ollie’s coming to pick me up for the airport.’ She handed him the newly folded shirt in reply, not trusting herself to speak. ‘Come back to bed with me for a bit.’ He smiled while he said it, but she could tell it didn’t reach his eyes without even meeting them.

‘I can’t, Ted, I’ve got to- ‘ she was mortified then to discover tears threatening to spill over, and she turned away, searching for the bag and the coat they’d left near the door hours ago, back when she’d tricked herself into thinking maybe morning wouldn’t ever quite arrive.
Ted followed her, and when she turned back around, bag in hand, he was in front of her again.

‘Rebecca.’ He did touch her then, his hands on her upper arms, hurt written across his face.

‘Have a nice flight then,’ she said, drawing on every learned bit of emotional repression she’d built up over twelve years of marriage. She managed to smile at him, just a little, and some part of her was strangely proud at being able to reach into herself and pull out that old costume and wear it so well even while she felt like crumbling inside. She could tell Ted wanted to say something, but before he could he was leaning forward and kissing her, one hand rising up to cup her jaw as he did. ‘Hey,’ he pressed his forehead to hers when he pulled away. ‘I love you.’

And that is what broke her, sent the tears she’d fought back spilling freshly over. She wrenched herself away from him. ‘You do not, you absolutely cannot say that.’ She didn’t look at him again as she turned towards the door, ignored his protests that she stop, that she stay, that she please listen. And then she was gone, and it was still raining, and she hadn’t dressed for the weather, but it didn’t matter, it felt oddly appropriate somehow that she walk home in the early morning downpour, till she was soaked through when she got to her own front door. She spent the rest of the weekend holed up at home. She did not try to call Ted. He did not try to call her.

That was the story Rebecca told Keeley. Edited down to the most-relevant, least-salacious details. She had made a series of choices that felt inevitable in retrospect. How could she have let him go back to America without at least learning what it felt like to have him? How could he have ever not gone back to America? She was not someone people went out of their way to choose.

Keeley absorbed all of this quietly, the occasional murmur of sympathy her only contribution. Where Rebecca had known Keeley needed to be held close in times of crisis, Keeley seemed to intuit that her friend was the opposite, that she needed space to gesture and breath, that the last thing she wanted was the feeling of being trapped, someone making her problems feel so insignificant that they could be solved by a hug or a well meaning pat on the back.

But once she’d finished speaking, Rebecca finally turned to Keeley beside her, looking at her in such a way that made Keeley feel like she was judge and jury being called upon to issue a verdict on the state of her friend’s fate.

‘That’s a lot, babe,’ she said finally. Rebecca snorted. Outside, the city was coming to life on a Saturday morning, the trill of an ice cream truck jingle already calling out for customers on what promised to be another scorching day. The childish tune felt too light for the heaviness on her heart.

‘I feel like, maybe that was it for me, you know? Maybe I got Ted for one night and now I can just stop looking. I could get a cat. Take up painting or something finicky like that.’ Keeley weighed this dramatic declaration for a moment, twisting a strand of hair between her fingers.

‘Maybe.’ She looked at her friend. ‘Or, maybe there’s another option?

‘I swear if you mention fucking Bantr right now I will fucking smother you with this pillow.’ Rebecca was already reaching for the sequined silver throw pillow propped up beside her when Keeley grabbed her hands.

‘Not Bantr, you numpty. First of all, no matter what, you know you aren’t alone, right? You’ve got me, and you’ve got Roy, and all the rest of us. No one is letting you go all Miss Havisham in that big house of yours.’ Rebecca raised an eyebrow. ‘What? I read. And anyway did you not stop to think in any of that little speech that he sent you flowers?’ She nodded towards where the sunflowers that had started their morning still sat alone on the kitchen table. ‘You’ve got yourself convinced you’ll never see or speak to Ted again, but I have to say I don’t understand why that has to be true.’

‘Keeley.’ Rebecca looked again at the flowers. ‘He never once asked for his contract to be renewed. He has a son here in America. A son who he got on the first possible plane out of England to see after the match. What could he possibly want with me?’ She rubbed a hand across her face.

‘Bullshit.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘You heard me. What did his card say?’ Keeley jumped up from her seat when Rebecca didn’t answer her right away, plucking the card from within the flower stems. Her eyes went wide and she let out a squeak as she read. ‘Oh, come on. This is the man you’re telling me has no real feelings for you?’ She held up the thin strip of paper.

‘It’s Ted. He’s…nice.’ It came out as more of a question than Rebecca meant it to, and Keeley saw the moment her conviction wavered.

‘Oh he is very nice, but he has never once told me he loved me. You’re ahead by two on that front.’ She climbed back onto the couch, handing Ted’s note to Rebecca in the process. ‘The way I see it is you’re both being ridiculous right now, and if you just talked to each other you could sort it all out no problem.’
Rebecca cut her eyes at her. ‘Says the woman who tried to run away from a pregnancy.’

‘Oy, that’s fair, but I do know you, and I know Ted, and there’s no universe where you two aren’t perfect for each other.’ She elbowed Rebecca gently. ‘A friend of mine recently told me I should probably make a phone call and talk out what was bothering me. And she was right.’ She leaned her head against Rebecca’s shoulder then, keeping her from bolting.

‘Sounds like a pretty smart friend,’ Rebecca added after a minute.

‘Yeah, she’s pretty great. Mad fit too.’ Rebecca scoffed. ‘And she had the best shag of her life then ran away from the bloke she’s in love with.’

‘I did not say best shag-‘ Keeley picked her head up and raised her eyebrows at her. Rebecca sighed. ‘Fine, yes, the earth moved, I saw stars, the whole thing, are you happy?’ Keeley cheered. Then she stood up, patted Rebecca on the head as she moved around the couch to the door.

‘Call him, alright? I’ve got to go out and get your birthday present, because I may or may not have forgotten it was your birthday.’
‘Hey!’ Rebecca laughed

‘I’ve been distracted.’ Keeley rolled her eyes as she buckled her sandals. ‘Alright, back in a bit. I love you very much, and please call Ted,’ she said when she stood, and then she was gone and Rebecca was alone, the little florist card still clutched in her hand. Her head hurt and the ice cream truck was still chirping from outside, and she missed London terribly for a moment, the grey and the cool and the rain, and the ease with which her life was ordered there. Maybe coming to New York had been a mistake, throwing her routine out of wack exactly when she needed it the most. Then again, what had been left of her routine with Ted gone? Her days didn’t start with biscuits or end over pints at the Crown and Anchor, they simply droned on unimaginatively.

She studied the card in her hand for a long time. Ran her finger along the edge, traced the words with a fingernail. It wasn’t his handwriting but it had come from him, and she imagined briefly the conversation he must have had with the florist on the phone, stating clearly to a stranger that he loved her, the florist probably hearing it a hundred times a day and typing it diligently onto the card without a second thought. But it meant something somehow, that someone else beside herself had heard those words, that Ted had given them life beyond the small space between them.

She moved to the flowers then, suddenly needing to be sure they were taken care of. Carina had nothing resembling a vase but she did have a large old mason jar on a high kitchen shelf that Rebecca reached for. She carefully trimmed the stems with a pair of kitchen scissors she dug up from the silverware drawer and arranged the flowers so they looked most inviting. She gave them water and set them in the center of the kitchen table, admiring the bright pop of color they gave the room. It had been a long time since anyone had sent her flowers, a longer time still since anyone had thought to look beyond the basic Valentine’s Day-style roses. But Ted knew her better than most people.

She sat down at the table in front of her flowers, stuck her face up close to smell them, sweet and sunny. She remembered Ted telling her about the fields of sunflowers in Kansas. He even had a picture of Henry at one of them, the yellow blooms towering over the little boy where he stood. Then she thought of what Ted was doing just then, if he was thinking about her, wondering if she’d gotten the flowers and if she’d acknowledge them. She twisted in her chair. Everyone thought of Ted as the master communicator, the man capable of getting an entire team of football players to cooperate and play as one. But Rebecca knew the real Ted was often scared to open himself up, to let someone in on what was really going on in his head. It would have taken a lot of courage on his part to reach out. Maybe she could owe him a bit of bravery in return. After all, despite how much it always felt like they could communicate wordlessly, a special sort of mind meld they had had since he first asked her about herself the day they met, they did always do best when they actually chose to use their words out loud.

Before she could fully work up the courage to call him though, she needed to get dressed, needed to feel like slightly more of a person again. Her clothing options were beginning to dwindle - they’d need to find a laundromat soon if they were going to stay in the city, and Rebecca couldn’t honestly remember the last time she’d done her own laundry. She’s fairly certain she’s never even stepped foot in a laundromat. Keeley was going to have to play tutor.

But there was still a clean pair of shorts and a sleeveless top to put on, and so that’s what she wore after attempting to tame her hair into something resembling respectable. The heat and humidity of the city had not been kind to it though and she settled on a simple ponytail. Keeley still hadn’t returned by the time she was finished so she debated making the leap and calling him right then, but it didn’t feel right. If she was going to do this it needed to be somewhere she could see the sky easily, somewhere she could distract herself if things went poorly.

The East Village was wide awake by the time she made it outside. Bagels and brunch and people walking their dogs, a whole host of NYU summer students soaking up the sunshine in minimal clothing. Rebecca envied the ease with which they lounged on each other, the carefree way they swapped water bottles and aluminum wrapped egg and cheese sandwiches amongst one another. They were clearly a unit, inseparable for what they hoped was forever but was most likely only until the start of the fall semester.

She walked for blocks, her phone clutched in her hand like it might disappear if she put it in her pocket or dropped it into her purse. At the park she found a place to sit in the grass where she could look out over the East River and the expanse of sun-baked Brooklyn beyond. The park was full of families enjoying their weekend, and she watched for a moment as a pair of toddlers raced by on scooters nearly the same size as they were, their parents following behind with a tabby cat on a leash. She held her phone up to her ear and pressed call before she could change her mind.

The phone rang. And rang and rang. He was probably with Henry, she decided, watching another family walk by, probably doing something fun with his Saturday morning and not thinking anything about his phone or her or what he’d left behind in Richmond. He was where he was supposed to be, with his family, and why did she think she had the right to interrupt. She was just about to hang up, to possibly toss her phone right into the river to avoid facing what she was sure was abject humiliation, when the line connected. She froze.

‘Hey there, birthday girl.’ He sounded like himself, greeting her with no hesitation, even if she wasn’t quite sure she could hear his usual smile in his voice.

‘Hi, Ted,’ she said, and felt a small piece of her heart click back into place even as her adrenaline stayed pitched at high. She could hear him breathing on the other end of the line, but he didn’t say anything else at first. A ferry hurried down the river in front of her. ‘I, um. I got your flowers this morning.’ She wiped a line of sweat from her forehead. ‘They’re quite lovely, thank you.’

‘You’re welcome.’ She could hear voices on his end, could tell that he was outside too, the sounds of Kansas somehow not all that different from the sounds of Lower Manhattan. She shrank into herself again.

‘I’m sorry, you’re probably with Henry. I shouldn’t have called, I’ll let you get back to your day.’

‘No Rebecca, hang on a minute.’ He stopped her before she could hang up. A few seconds later she could tell he’d moved somewhere quieter, the background noise muffled. ‘Henry’s got a little summer league baseball game going, but he’s not up to bat for another little while yet, I’ve got time.’

‘Oh.’ She didn’t know what to say to him now that she had him. Finally, he broke the silence.

‘Glad the flowers found you. Didn’t know you and Keels had plans to be in New York this summer.’ It didn’t sound accusatory exactly, but it was a question, one she could tell hurt him both to ask and not to have the answer to.

‘I’m not sure either of us exactly planned this.’

‘Right, right.’ He wasn’t going to make this easy on her. She thought about those last few minutes before she’d fallen asleep at his apartment, when it felt like maybe she could live in that liminal space forever. How much she’d give to be able to go back and do things differently from there.

‘I’m sorry, Ted.’

‘Hey now, you’re allowed to make whatever vacation, or holiday I guess you all call it, plans that you want.’ He was avoiding the issue and it made her feel a little better to know he was maybe as scared to talk about it as she was.

‘Not about New York.’ She paused, brushed off an ant that had begun crawling up her leg. ‘About, well. Everything?’

‘Everything.’ He repeated it back to her. She heard a car door slam in the background and realized he’d been sitting in his own car while they spoke. She tried to picture him as a driver and it felt strangely ridiculous. The Ted she knew wore his trainers to bits walking around Richmond, marveled at the efficiency of the Tube when he needed it. He did not shuttle himself or others about in a car, not where sometimes, especially when he was tired, he still got tripped up on what side of the road the car was meant to be on. ‘Can I say something?’ he broke into her train of thought.

‘Of course.’

‘I’m not sorry.’ He said it with confidence, and it loosened knots of anxiety Rebecca hadn’t even known she was carrying. ‘I’m not sorry about what happened that night, any of it, though I don’t like that it seems to have knocked you sideways. I’m not sorry that I said what I said, because I mean it, but I apologize if my timing was wrong, and if you don’t want to hear it from me ever again I will respect that. I wish we would have had more time, but I’m not sorry that you were brave because I’d been meaning to be for months and hadn’t worked up the nerve, but if you regret it or if you never meant for it to happen in the first place you just say the word and I will apologize and never speak another word of it. I just,’ he was getting himself worked up, Rebecca could hear it, somewhere in the back of her mind worried that he’d probably missed Henry’s turn at bat and wasn’t that just perfect, that she was making him miss time with his son even when he was physically with his son. ‘I don’t know what you want from me, Rebecca. As much as I fancy myself an expert on all things Welton, I can’t read you on this one. I’m too close to the whole thing, my brain’s all mixed up, doesn’t want to let me consider all sides of the issue.’

It was quiet as he finished speaking, and the distance between them seemed to shrink over the phone line. ‘Can I say something now?’

‘Always.’

She cleared her throat a little, not sure of what exactly she was going to say until the words themselves started coming out. ‘I think being sorry is different from regretting it.’

‘Alright.’

‘No, it is. I don’t regret it either, not the facts of it. You were a dream, Ted.’ She paused, suddenly wishing she’d had this conversation in person when she had the chance. Wishing still that he’d jump in and save her from herself. But he didn’t. ‘You are my dream,’ she added softly. On the other end of the line his breathing stuttered for a second. She closed her eyes and pressed on. ‘But I’m sorry that I didn’t consider how you might feel. I was selfish. I just wanted to know, just wanted that one night before you left for good so I wouldn’t have to wonder. But that was my idea, not yours, and I never meant to upset you or confuse you.’ She opened her eyes. Around her, families were sitting down to make-shift picnics of sliced fruit and juice boxes, of bagels and of White Claws hidden in brown paper bags. He didn’t say anything for a long time, and she wondered hysterically if maybe he’d hung up, or left the phone in the car for her to talk to the upholstery while he went back to Henry’s game.

‘Well, now I’m confused.’ She brushed another ant from her leg, and had she fucking managed to sit on a nest of them or something? He continued, ‘I know you’ve got a lot going on, boss, but you’re going to have to let me know if I’m out of a job.’

‘What?’

‘You said I was leaving for good, and, I’m just saying, I was under the impression I would be back bothering those boys indefinitely. So if I’ve been fired, I think someone forgot to mention it.’ There was a hint of humor in his voice, the teasing lilt that she knew he used when he wanted to crack her stubborn outer shell, and right on cue it was working. She could feel herself softening, the flaws in her argument showing through the haze of her hurt.

’Ted.’

‘You can tell me if Beard’s been promoted. Or Roy? Maybe you figured we’d won and it was time to give the other guys I try, I get it.’ He laughed. ‘Or maybe it was time to call in the big guns? We won so you had to find a real pro, one of them that’s been coaching for decades, make sure Richmond stays up?’

‘I’ve done no such thing and you know that,’ she said to him, the absurdity of the conversation and the turn it’d taken making her roll her eyes even as she smiled to herself, the phone still pressed tight to hear ear.

‘I do not know that, you just got done telling me you jumped my bones as a going away present while I wasn’t at all aware I was going away, at least excepting the obvious current sojourn.’ She cringed at his phrasing, almost protested that whatever she’d done it’d been at least a little more subtle than that.

‘You never brought up your contract! Not once. I assumed you weren’t interested in extending it and didn’t know how to tell me. You have Henry, Ted. You never meant to be in Richmond forever.’

‘No, that’s true, I didn’t. But when I signed that three year contract I hadn’t met you yet.’ He sighed on the other end of the line. ‘I didn’t bring up my contact because it seemed wrong to talk about my staying or going as only dependent on what was happening with my job.’

‘What else would there be?’

‘You.’ Then, 'us, something between us I was working up the courage to find out about before you beat me to it.’ She tried to process this.

‘Have we both been tremendous idiots?’

‘You know I don’t like using words like that, but in this case, I think it’s safe to say that yes, we’ve both been complete doofuses, as Henry would say.’

‘Oh god, Henry.’ She squeezed her eyes closed again. ‘Ted, you must have missed his entire game by now. You should go, we can catch up later.’

‘It’s alright. To be honest, he’s not very good at this whole batting thing. Think he should probably stick to football, or, you know what I mean, soccer.’

‘Is he quite good at football?’

‘Nah, but he’s enthusiastic.’ Ted chuckled. ‘I am not too proud to admit that I did not raise a natural born athlete.’ She smiled. Let the silence sit between them for a second now that it was something much closer to comfortable. He broke it with, ‘Can I call you tomorrow?’ The question still so cautious it made her heart hurt.

‘I would like that.’ She thought she could hear his answering grin.

‘Alrighty then. I will talk to you later, boss.’ They said their goodbyes and Rebecca hung up feeling like she’d been run through a wash cycle in the laundry, soaked through and rung out, maybe a little dizzy. The sun had shifted while they talked so she was no longer entirely in the shade, and the warmth felt good on her bare legs, grounding and a reminder that she still existed in a world beyond her own emotions and erratic pulse.

She stayed for a long time in the park, flat on her back in the grass so she could see the sky, the steady buzz of helicopters criss crossing the clouds, the mossy quilt of the tree canopy above her. For the first time in a long time there was only one thought in her head, and that was that maybe she hadn’t broken her life irreversibly. Maybe all the bumps and bruises she’d lived through in the last few years might still lead to something remarkable. She’d lost track of time when she felt her phone buzz where she held it against her stomach. She picked it up. It was a photo, Henry and Ted grinning into the phone, squinting slightly in the sun, both of their ball caps turned backwards. The smile of someone who did not hit a single run this game Ted had captioned it.

He’s darling, Ted, she typed back. And he was, freckles and teeth too big for his mouth, closer to hitting the growth spurt she was sure would put him eye to eye with his father soon enough but not quite there yet, leaving him all arms and legs.

He is, isn’t he? Then, It was good to hear your voice today. She bit her lip, her own smile threatening to take over her face.

When Rebecca got back to the flat it was early afternoon and the tops of her thighs were light pink with sunburn. She was thirsty and hungry and mentally calculating if there was enough leftover Thai food from the night before to work as lunch or if she’d need to go back out for something more substantial. She was not prepared to open the door after trudging up all the stairs to Roy Kent at the kitchen table, looking entirely out of place in the hot, summery kitchen in his black jeans and grey tshirt. She froze when she saw him, accidentally letting the door slam behind her.

The walls of the old building shook, and the noise drew Keeley out of where she’d been in the bedroom.

‘Surprise!’ she laughed. And Rebecca looked at her as Roy stood, a rare smile on his own face.

‘Happy birthday, you,’ he said, and kissed her on the cheek. She laughed.

‘Is this my present then?’ She pointed at Roy as she looked at Keeley.

‘You wish,’ she grinned, and Roy rolled his eyes. ‘He is a happy coincidence. Your present is here.’ She squeezed past them to the refrigerator and pulled out a box neatly tied with red and white string and set it in front of Rebecca on the table. ‘Go on, open it.’ Rebecca didn’t need much convincing. She carefully untied the bow on top and lifted the lid to find a few rows of freshly filled cannolis, their crispy edges touched with chocolate and some of them with green pistachios too. She looked up at Keeley, remembering the day their walks had taken them through the touristy few blocks of Little Italy, both of them flirting with the restaurant hosts in the street even while they never had any intention of sitting down to eat. Instead they ate cones of gelato in multiple flavors while they walked and picked two cannoli to wash them down.

‘These will get eaten in record time. Thank you.’ She reached for her friend and hugged her. ‘You did good even if you did forget,’ she teased, and Keeley shoved at her playfully. All three of them chose one from the box and sat around the table to eat them, Rebecca forgetting all about her leftover pad se ew in favor of her treat. Roy’s flight had been full of turbulence, and he regaled both women with tales of in-air drama as passengers shrieked or prayed as the plane bounced around. He only shrugged when Rebecca asked if he himself had been scared, but she could see Keeley had her hand tight on his knee in comfort.

The flat felt even smaller with a third person there. Suddenly there was always someone in the bathroom, someone else contributing body heat to the already overheated space. Roy and Keeley spent a lot of time on the couch, sometimes talking, other times just coexisting, Keeley’s feet up on his lap while he read some novel he’d picked up at the airport and she played a game on her phone. Rebecca had to keep from cooing over them when, on the morning of Roy’s third day in the city, she’d caught them sitting with Roy’s hand resting gently over Keeley’s belly, like it was as casual as holding hands. They never mentioned the baby in her presence, but it’s existence hung over everything.

Rebecca also had to keep herself from mentioning it when she talked to Ted. Which she did often now. After he called her the day after their first conversation just like he’d said he would, he called her at least once a day and texted her in between. She texted him when she wandered the crowded halls of the Met, dodging other tourists, and while she slurped down noodles for lunch at a counter in Chinatown. He texted her while he mowed the grass at his mother’s house and while waiting to pick up Henry from a birthday party at the bowling alley. It felt like they had months of catching up to do even if it’d only been a few weeks since last they spoke, and Rebecca reveled in it.

In the flat, Roy took one look at the motley assortment of food in the kitchen and immediately took over grocery duty. He made sure both women were fed, making especially sure Keeley was eating enough and kept it down. Rebecca was optimistic watching them, pleased that her friends seemed on the verge of tackling something major with way more poise and grace than either of them would have been capable of even a few years earlier. It gave her hope that she could grow too.

When Keeley fell asleep early one night, the sky outside not even fully dark, Rebecca and Roy stepped out into the twilight streets, feeling too cooped up in the flat to stay in after dinner. Without discussing it, they made their way to an ice cream shop a few blocks away where Rebecca ordered some triple chocolate flavor and Roy an unnaturally bright cotton candy variety that made Rebecca raise her eyebrows at him.

‘What,’ he grunted. ‘I spend a lot of time with Phoebe.’

‘I didn’t say anything.’

‘You were thinking it.’ They walked with their ice cream until they found a bench in Tompkins Square Park and sat side by side to finish their dessert. They were quiet. They’d always been good at being quiet together. As full dark settled over the city the park emptied out but groups of high school students and couples lingered, enjoying the warm evening. Eventually Roy looked up from his last spoonful of ice cream. ’So how is she, really?’

Rebecca considered her response over a mouthful of fudge. ‘She’s alright, I think. Better, now you’re here.’ Roy nodded and shrugged, and Rebecca bumped her shoulder against this. ‘The other question right now is how are you doing?’ He stared off into the park for a long moment.

‘Fucking angry,’ he said. ‘Angry at her for not telling me and fucking running away instead of talking about it, angry at her fucking mum for being horrendous to her for so long. At myself for not seeing it while she was freaking out, not being there to help her.’ He looked at her. ‘Maybe at you a little bit too.’ She laid a hand over his on the bench between them.

‘You’re a good man, Roy. Be as angry as you want, but Keeley is lucky to have you,’ she said, squeezing his hand once before letting go. They were quiet another few minutes, Rebecca watching a pair of dogs tussle on the ends of their leashes, before Roy interrupted her thoughts again.

‘What about you, then? You’ve done some daft things when you’re upset, but leaving the country is maybe a new one.’ Rebecca laughed.

‘Not new. Sassy and I definitely caught a flight to Berlin when her uni boyfriend broke up with her, but that’s not the point.’ She fiddled with the frayed cuff on the edge of her shorts. ‘I’m doing better too though.’ Roy dipped his chin in acknowledgement.

‘You should call him, get him out here.’ And Rebecca had known that Roy knew what was going on between her and Ted, knew there was some sort of sacred code of the Diamond Dogs that meant he wouldn’t disclose anything specific that’d been said, but it still felt odd, knowing he knew Ted and what he was thinking and feeling in a way she didn’t.

‘He’s with Henry.’ Roy scoffed.

‘If I told you that Henry was going to Boy Scout camp next week, would that change things?’ He eyed her, the faint hint of a smile on his face. Ted hadn’t mentioned any camps in their last few days of talking. Roy seemed to read her thoughts as he watched her. ‘He’s terrified of overstepping. He’s always afraid he’s going to be too much.’ He put air quotes around the last part. ‘You know how he is, the bloody idiot.’

‘Who could ever think Ted was too much?’ The idea was absurd to Rebecca. As if there was such a thing as too much kindness, too much warmth. Too much ability to make her laugh so hard her knees buckled and her eyes watered. Roy cocked his head at her.

‘You love him, don’t you? You should probably tell him.’ He said it casually, like it was the most natural thing in the world. And Rebecca knew, deep down, that she did love him, completely and utterly, in a way that filled a part of her heart she hadn’t even known needed filling. But it had taken her so long to realize it, the whole thing so fragile, that she hadn’t been able to say it to him, even over the relative safety of a phone call. She nodded at Roy, imagined Ted a timezone away putting Henry to bed, maybe thinking of calling her or staying up late with a baking project. ‘Keeley and I are going home this weekend,’ Roy said then. Rebecca’d known they would have to leave eventually, that they needed to settle into their situation, make sure they were on the same page once back in familiar surroundings. She herself had left the club in Higgins’ more than capable hands but knew she couldn’t stay away forever, as much as she’d grown fond of her little corner of the city.

‘That’s good,’ she said, and meant it.

‘You can stay. Keeley said there’d be no problem.’ And it hurt, a little, that Keeley and Roy had clearly had this discussion without her, that they were a unit in a way that didn’t include her, even after the last few weeks. But it was also reassuring too, to know her friends were looking out for her, making sure they didn’t push her into anything she wasn’t ready for.

‘I think I will. A little longer anyway.’ Roy nodded, and they slowly made their way back to the flat.

‘Too many fucking stairs, and it’s too fucking hot in this fucking city,’ Roy said as they climbed the stairs, and Rebecca laughed.

‘Good thing you’re going home then,’ she said, and winked at him as they shuffled into the kitchen, trying to be quiet enough not to wake Keeley.

‘Good thing,’ he huffed and peaked around the bedroom door at where Keeley lay sprawled across the bed, her hair everywhere and the blanket kicked to one side.

‘Good night, Roy,’ Rebeca whispered. She took a long shower, scrubbing city grime from her feet and rinsing the day’s sweat from her skin. When she crawled into bed she picked up her phone to a photo of a stunning Kansas sunset, all oranges and reds, and a single purple heart to accompany it.

Keeley and Roy caught a flight home that Friday night. Rebecca helped them drag their bags down the stairs, Keeley having stuffed in all sorts of random NYC tchotchkes to shower on the boys at Nelson Road when she saw them next. Shot glasses and playing cards and coffee mugs. Rebecca bought a tiny ‘I Heart NY’ onesie behind her back, hoping maybe one day she’d tell the kid about all the time they spent in the city. She tucked it into her own suitcase to be forgetten about until and unless it was needed.

The cab driver was an older South Asian man who had his radio turned up high, and Rebecca hugged her friends on the sidewalk before they got into the car. She squeezed Roy’s shoulders and tucked Keeley under her chin for a long hug. It felt like the ending of something, like the end of summer camp or that moment you step out into the sunshine after a matinee movie screening and suddenly you have to face the real world abruptly even while you’re still processing everything else that’s just happened. But she didn’t cry because Keeley didn’t cry.

‘Have a good flight, and let me know when you’re home safe,’ she said once she’d let them go, and they both agreed as Roy held the car door open for Keeley to climb in. Rebecca stood and watched as the yellow cab wound its way down the street and out of sight, its brake lights blending into the larger rush of early evening traffic.

The flat seemed too quiet immediately. For a few hours Rebecca reveled in having the whole place to herself, turned up the volume on the tv and took up the entire couch herself as she watched a rerun of a Law & Order episode. She worked on finishing the half-empty bottle of wine she and Roy’d bought to split with dinner the night before, and by the time the episode was over she was feeling the light buzz of the alcohol. She picked up her phone, and for the first time requested a FaceTime call when she dialed Ted. She needed to see his face when she asked him what she planned to ask him.

He picked up after a few rings, clearly in the middle of something; the phone twisted around as he moved. When he settled he was on a couch, green with white walls behind it, and it looked homey the way she’d imagined his childhood home had probably been.

‘Sorry, was up in the attic. It’s nice to see you, boss.’ He grinned at her, and his hair was out of its usual careful style, his tshirt showing signs of wear on the collar.

‘Is this a bad time?’

‘Never. Was just looking for an old pocketknife of mine for Henry to take to camp.’

‘Have you found it?’

‘Nope, but I think I’m getting closer. Found the box with all my Boy Scout things in it.’ He laughed a little. ‘My mama really saved everything.’ Rebecca smiled.

‘My old bedroom at my mother’s is still pink with Patrick Swayze on the walls.’ He beamed at her. ‘I think it’s just a thing mums do.’

‘Could be, could be.’ He ran his hand through his hair and Rebecca watched the muscles in his forearm flex as he did so. ‘What’s new on your end though? Looking like a quiet night in over there.’ She felt the heat in her face as she remembered she was wearing an old sleep shirt and had tied her hair up to keep it out of her face and off her shoulders in the heat.

‘It’s bloody hot here, Ted. You didn’t warn me that America was a fucking inferno.’ He laughed.

‘It could be worse.’

‘Yes, well, I’m just trying not to move too much.’ They looked at each other through the camera for a moment, and Rebecca remembered what she originally had wanted to ask him. ‘Keeley and Roy went home today. Or-‘ she checked the time on her phone, ‘their flight is probably just about to take off now.’

‘They left you all by yourself did they?’ There might have been something flirtatious to his tone.

‘They did, damn them.’ She fought back a smile. ‘But that just means there’s room here, if -‘ she couldn’t get the words out, and he let her leave it there for a second before prompting her.

‘If, what?’ She took a deep breath.

‘If you wanted to come out here? Roy told me about Henry going to camp, so maybe if you don’t have anything you need to do this week? But of course you have your mum, and you might have plans with her, or with anyone really, so don’t feel like you have to, but it would be good to see you. In person.’ She looked away, not quite able to meet his eyes after her ramble. He didn’t answer immediately, but when he did she felt her heart bubble up in her chest.

‘Of course, I’ll be there.’ Her smile matched his. ‘I can be on the first flight after drop offs at Camp Tumbleweed on Sunday morning.’

‘That’s perfect.’ They just grinned at each other for a moment then, before eventually Rebecca yawned and Ted shooed her off the phone to get some rest. They hung up each feeling like little kids on Christmas Eve, counting down the hours until something long-awaited and magic. Rebecca stared at the ceiling for a long time before she fell asleep, dreaming of turning her life upside down.

Sunday dawned cloudy and humid, and Rebecca sat at the tiny kitchen table stirring sugar into her tea and texting Keeley who was interrogating her about her plans with Ted.

You should take pictures in all the places from When Harry Met Sally
You just know he loves that movie
Maybe he’ll propose on the Empire State Building???!!!
Are you going to take a carriage through Central Park?
God, I hope you actually just never get out of bed
You have to tell me everything!! I want all the details!

Rebecca laughed as her phone continued to buzz where it sat on the table beside her, Keeley’s increasingly unhinged messages lightening the air and making her forget for a while that she was actually rather nervous to see Ted after everything. She wanted to, but there was still a part of her that wasn’t sure how things would go, if they’d be awkward with each other after more than a month of separation. She picked at a slice of toast for breakfast and promised Keeley she’d be the first to know if she found herself reenacting a Nora Ephron film.

Ted’s flight got in in the early evening. It landed seven minutes ahead of schedule, at least according to the airport website Rebecca had been obsessively refreshing, worried the grey skies meant storms somewhere that might keep him from her. But the rain held off, and he was quickly in a cab and on his way into the city. She imagined him chatting with the driver the whole way, making fast friends the way he did everywhere he went. She paced the few feet from one end of the flat to another until he was buzzing the door from out front and she was flying down the stairs, unable to wait even the minute or two it would take him to reach her.

At the front door she was relieved to find he looked exactly like himself. Khaki shorts in deference to the heat and a short sleeve polo shirt, but it was undeniably him, not some newly re-Americanized version some part of her had feared she’d have to get to know. He caught her when she burst through the door and flung her arms around his neck, taking a step back to catch his balance under her momentum. He squeezed her back just as tight for a moment before pulling back to look at her face.

‘I’m a little late, but, as the great Taylor Swift says, ‘Welcome to New York,’ boss.’

‘I should be saying that to you,’ she laughed.

‘Nah, you’re the one who crossed an ocean. Can’t deprive you of some homegrown American hospitality.’ He had just a small canvas bag with him that he picked up from the ground then, not fully letting go of her waist. ’Do I get to see this, what did you call it, shoebox with a shower you’ve been living in?’ Rebecca laughed again and led him up the stairs, listening to him rattle on about his flight and the cab ride, and how, just like she’d known he would, he’d had a good conversation with his driver about the city and how he was proud to be raising his two kids in Queens. He was panting a little by the time they reached the top. ‘No need for the gym when this is how you get home,’ he said as she led him into the flat. It didn’t seem at all real that he should be there, in the place she’d specifically run to to shake off her thoughts of him. Yet there he was, tall and broad shouldered, his hair losing a little volume in the heat. He looked around like he was being offered a year long lease, peering out the window and running a hand along the handle of the refrigerator.

He stopped when he got to the jar of flowers still on the table, definitely worse for their age but still hanging on. She hadn’t had the heart to throw them away. He smiled at them and looked up at her. So much affection in his eyes she felt over exposed, like he could see straight through to the blood and bone and stardust of herself.

‘You must be tired, after your trip,’ she said.

‘No more than usual,’ he said. ‘Too excited to be here even if I was.’ There was a bit of an awkward shuffle over where he should put his bag, neither of them quite ready to say out loud what they hoped for, and he settled on dropping it just inside the room that had been Keeley’s. Rebecca loved him more for his lack of assumptions. She let him freshen up for a bit, and then they both agreed they could use dinner, or at the very least, a drink.

Ted was simultaneously a natural at New York and a complete outsider. He wasn’t shy about ducking down side streets just to see what was there, or about asking strangers for recommendations or suggestions. He also had a tendency to dawdle, to want to soak up everything from all angles in a way that made their fellow pedestrians huff in impatience as they tried to pass him on the sidewalk. But Rebecca was happy to see the city through his fresh eyes. He hadn’t been since he was newly out of college on his first big trip with Michelle. They’d seen all the major tourist sites and his first show on Broadway and had their first major fight when they accidentally went the wrong way on the subway for fourteen stops. Rebecca smiled as he told her the story while they walked.

The evening was warm, and Rebecca felt like she’d stepped into some ideallic form of her life, the same streets she’d walked endlessly, first alone and then with Keeley, felt newly alive. At a crowded intersection she reached instinctively for Ted’s hand, not wanting to be separated by the crush of other pedestrians. He looked over his shoulder at her and smiled, gripping her hand tightly as they crossed the street then keeping hold of it as traffic thinned out again. Rebecca thought maybe this was the Nora Ephron moment in her life that Keeley had been talking about, strolling along hand in hand with the man she loved through the twilit streets of the West Village.

Over dinner at an outdoor table at a sparkling little corner restaurant, where they ordered oysters and elaborately layered salads and sunset colored cocktails, they talked. About the places Rebecca had seen since she’d arrived and how for the first time she felt like she truly understood the city even after a lifetime of visiting it. How she missed London but admired somehow the way people in New York carried on with every conceivable human activity at all hours of the day and night and no matter the weather. She asked about Kansas, about his mum and Henry, and he told her how Henry had been so excited for camp he’d hardly slept the night before.

‘His bunk counselor is probably deeply regretting that right about now,’ he laughed. They watched people pass on the sidewalk, everyone ambling on a Sunday night, no one ready to admit there was another week facing them in the morning. ‘I think New York suits you,’ Ted said. She’d felt his eyes on her as they finished their drinks, the last few bites of a chocolate mousse still on the table between them.

‘And why is that?’ She asked, eyebrow raised and smile teasing the corner of her mouth. He looked at her another moment longer, and Rebecca’s blood warmed under his considered attention.

‘You seem happy,’ he finally settled on. ‘You’re radiant, Rebecca.’

‘That would be the sunburn,’ she cracked out of habit, but she saw his face fall just enough she couldn’t let him think she didn’t appreciate what he was saying. ‘Thank you.’ She reached across the table to take his hand. ‘I have you to thank for a great deal of that happiness.’ He smiled softly at her. ‘Rupert and I, we never went anywhere just for the sake of it. Never just wandered to see what we’d find or who we might meet. Everything was planned. And I thought that was good, for a while. It meant nothing could surprise you, because surprises were bad, they were embarrassing or awkward.’ She took a sip of her drink, her fingers sill tangled up with his. ‘I’ve walked all over the city these last few weeks, and at first I didn’t know why I was doing it, but I think I just wanted to prove to myself that I could. I could just walk out the door and decide at every corner what was next, leave myself completely open to finding something wonderful or confronting something terrible. And I could do that because of you, Ted. You’ve been the best surprise in my life, you’ve shown me that life isn’t about carefully ordering everything but being open to whatever you find. The surprises are the best part. You’re the best part.’

There were tears in his eyes, when she looked back up at him, and she smiled, let go of his hand to wipe one from the corner of his eye before it fell. He caught her hand and pressed a kiss to it before she could pull away, kept it tight in his. ‘I’d very much like to kiss you right now, but not in front of whatever is happening over there.’ He nodded behind her towards where a group of young people were dancing on top of a double decker bus, calling out to those still in the streets to join them as they swayed to music blaring from the small speaker they had secured to the roof. Rebecca shuddered at the thought of getting dragged into that chaos.

‘Best we get out of here then, yes?’ They flagged down their waiter to pay their bill, Rebecca eating the last bite of mousse before he could swipe the glass from the table. The dancers on the bus waved to them as they climbed into a taxi, the car ride back to the flat quick and quiet in the dark of a Sunday night. Rebecca danced her fingers along Ted’s thigh as they drove, the butterflies in her belly growing in number the closer they got to their home away from home. They passed the bar on the corner, and Rebecca briefly thought about stopping the cab there, about dragging Ted inside with her to show the bartender that she did have someone, someone who loved her and wanted her and didn’t have any tattoos of mermaids.

Ted bounded up all the stairs in their building like he was the Premier League player not their coach, his excitement at getting her alone infectious. She giggled as she unlocked the door and pulled him in after her. In the dark living room of the flat it suddenly felt like their entire evening, as delightful as it’d been, had only been a distraction, a stalling tactic for what was to come. She wanted him to touch her, and she leaned up just slightly on the toes of her sandals, took his face in her hands and kissed him. Urgent, and sloppy, and desperately happy. Ted sighed into her mouth as he clutched at her, his hand on her hip tight enough to leave bruises. She welcomed them.

She couldn’t decide between pushing him onto the couch as the nearest option or trying to navigate around it to her bedroom, and it was like he could read her thoughts because he broke the kiss to breath, combed his hand through the length of her hair.

‘We should slow down. We have time.’ She picked up her head from where she’d set it on his shoulder.

‘I like fast,’ she pouted.

‘I know you do,’ he said, a glint in his eye, ‘and I’ve got no problem with it, except tonight I’d like to take my time, if you’ll let me.’ His grip had loosened and he ran his hands softly over all the skin he could reach, her arms and her shoulders, the backs of her thighs, making her already overheated body blaze hotter. ‘I’d like to get to know this spot a little better,’ he slid a finger across the inside of her elbow, ‘and this one,’ a second finger along the dip in her waist. ‘This one up here too,’ as he traced the curve of her collar bone, his hand coming to rest on the side of her neck. Rebecca took a deep breath.

‘Is that all?’ She straightened to her full height, looked him in the eye, let herself reach out her own hand to fit a finger to the dimple in his cheek. He cocked his head and grinned at her.

‘Maybe a few others too.’

‘Yeah?’ She slid her hand further, smoothing across the stubble of his 5 o’clock shadow, finding the hair at the back of his neck.

‘Yeah.’ His eyes didn’t leave hers as he pulled her closer again until their noses nearly brushed. The city could have caught fire outside and Rebecca wouldn’t have noticed, her entire world narrowed to the places he was touching her and the things he was promising.

‘Okay,’ she whispered, giving him permission to take her apart, giving herself permission to let go, to trust that this was only the start of something not an end.

‘Okay, good,’ he said, the words barely out before he was kissing her again and for a long time, right there by the front door of the tiny borrowed apartment. He tasted faintly of the tropical cocktails he’d had with dinner as her tongue met his. And he kissed her with a confidence she found thrilling, the sort that suggested he not only wanted her but that her enjoyment was the source of his own. Her heart skipped in her chest and her limbs went liquid. She felt like she would climb into his skin with him if given the chance.

He caught her when her knees buckled, the noise he made in doing so a half growl half laugh she only barely registered through the pleasure-warm fog in her head. They stumbled into the bedroom then, their shoes left in a trail past the couch as they went. He met her eye as he bent down to pull off his socks, and she grinned. Noticed he had tan lines at his ankles that hadn’t been there at the start of the summer.

‘May I?’ He asked as he straightened in front of her, his hands light on the hem of her shirt. She nodded, and he lifted it over her head, dropped it to the floor before pressing a line of kisses up her arm from her wrist to her elbow. Then peeled the rest of her clothes from her like he was unwrapping a present, his hands shaking ever so slightly against each new stretch of skin. Enough to tell her he was summoning a fair amount of restraint for her benefit.

When she was bare before him, he let her return the favor, let her yank his shirt over his head and sink her teeth just deep enough into the soft spot where his shoulder met his neck. Let her pull down the zipper on his shorts and shove them down his hips right alongside his boxers. The two of them shown faintly in the dark of the room, their sweat already mixed and mingled together. He kissed her again, his hands growing bolder, and she gasped when one slid between her thighs, teasing at her slick center. She bit his lip and he groaned, and when he pulled back it was to suck clean the finger he’d just had inside her.

With his other hand he tugged her down onto the edge of the bed, lowering himself onto his knees before her. A younger Rebecca would have been embarrassed about the sweat, about the obvious physicality of her want for him, about the fact that she hadn’t kept up with her usual highly regimented schedule of aesthetician appointments. But the Rebecca in that moment, with Ted, thought of none of it, just of the animal reality of her body and the way he was making her feel as he kissed his way up her inner thighs. She fell backwards onto the bed as he finally met his destination, his mouth as confident there as it was in his kisses. This time he did tease her though, taking his time to learn different ways he could build her up only to back away and press his mouth to her hip bone or her belly button. She urged him on with a string of sighs and curses, her nerves all close to the surface.

When she couldn’t take it anymore she reached for him, her hand in his hair directing him where she needed him, and he laughed against her, happy to oblige and bring her up and over her peak with a rhythm that made her legs shiver and stars spark behind her eyes. He joined her on the bed as she slowly came down from her high, and as her breathing returned to normal she opened her eyes and looked at him. His face soft and full of wonder.

‘You could really spoil a girl with all that,’ she said.

‘I hope so.’ He smiled and leaned across the space between them and kissed her lightly, entirely undemanding. But she couldn’t get enough of him; her whole body thrummed with need for him. She’d never felt so safe and so undone at the same time, and it loosened something inside her.

‘Ted,’ she said, pulling herself against him so they were side by side, chest to chest. He hummed against her throat in response. ‘I love you.’ He stilled. Picked his head up to look at her, and she pushed his hair off his forehead to better see his reaction. Slowly, his face broke into a grin she couldn’t help but mirror, the relief she felt at finally saying the words out loud leaving her lighter than air.

‘Isn’t that something.’ His hand at her waist tightened. ‘I love you, too. So much.’ He kissed her hard on the mouth, then went back to her neck, rolling them both so she was flat on her back. He kept talking to her, mumbling nonsense into her skin as he kissed her, his joy giving his affection a buoyancy it hadn’t had before. Rebecca couldn’t stop smiling, couldn’t stop marveling at the feel of him as she ran her hands across his back. He lifted his head again a few minutes later. ‘You really love me?’ He said, not so much a question as an awed confirmation. She leaned up to kiss him and answered him anyway.

‘I really, really do.’ He’d been hard against her for ages, and she slid a hand between their bodies to grasp him, running her hand along his length. ‘Now how do you want me?’ She lifted her hips a little and grinned at the way his eyes darkened.

‘Just like this will do,’ he said, adjusting his weight over here. ‘Want to be able to see you.’ He was kissing her when he finally slid inside, and Rebecca groaned at the welcome intrusion. He went slow, watching her face as he’d said he would, memorizing her reactions to different depths and angles. Her orgasm too built slowly, warm embers heating her belly, until he hit a particular spot that suddenly fanned them into flames. He knew, observant as he was, the moment it happened, kept up that rhythm the short while longer it took for her to shatter around him. She clung to him as she did, her body’s pulses triggering his own, and when he moved to pull out of her she wrapped her legs tight around him, encouraged him to spill himself inside her, needing him to stay with her that much longer. They caught their breath tangled up in each other, the noises of the dark city outside slowly come back into focus.

Eventually he got up, retreating to the bathroom and returning with a damp cloth to clean her up. Rebecca briefly considered suggesting a shower, but the sweat would return either way, and she didn’t want to ever leave the bed again if she could help it. She crawled into his arms when he returned, laying her head on his chest where she could hear the study thump of his heart beat. Neither of them said anything for a long while, she thought maybe Ted had fallen asleep. But then he was laughing into her hair, his arms stretched out to his sides, and she lifted her head to look at him.

‘I can almost touch the wall on either side,’ he said and smiled. ‘Good golly this place is tiny.’

‘A shoebox, I told you.’ He scraped a knuckle against the aging drywall on the closest side before looping the arm back around her. He taped out a tune against her ribs, still chuckling.

‘You do remember that you are rich, right?’ She looked at him. ‘Don’t get me wrong, this place is great, but I am doing the math and can only conclude that you and Keeley forgot we have some very nice hotels this side of the pond. Some of the best actually.’ He was teasing her, and she grinned, her chin propped on his chest.

‘We just found that patch of mold over there,’ she gestured vaguely to the dark spot along the window sill, ‘very romantic,’ she deadpanned, and Ted laughed, jostling her where she lay.

‘My gal is funny,’ he said, looking down at her again. Rebecca’s face warmed.

‘Your gal, huh?’

‘Mmhm,’ he hummed, ‘she’s funny. And she’s smart, and she’s beautiful.’ He shifted beneath her, rearranging his legs, and something in the movement set off a quick aftershock in Rebecca he registered on her face. ‘Oh, and she’s maybe not done.’ His other hand slid between them, and he watched her as he touched her gently, testing his theory. She let him, unsure even herself, but when she sighed and chased his fingers with her hips he smirked and pulled away. ‘Show me.’

‘What?’

‘Show me,’ he said, turning her back onto her back beside him so her whole body was open to him where he lay propped up on an elbow. ‘Teach me how you touch yourself.’ She starred at him for a second, a new blush rising across her cheeks and her chest.

‘You’ve not struggled in that department so far,’ she said then, and it was his turn to blush just a little.

‘Happy to hear,’ he said.

‘So, why?’ He shrugged.

‘Curious.’ He kissed her quick. ‘Always good to have more tricks up my sleeve.’ She laughed a little and watched him for another second before closing her eyes, working herself into the right headspace. ‘Only if you’re comfortable though,’ he said, just as she let one hand drift down her body. She felt him still beside her, pictured him studying carefully as she dipped one finger inside herself, enjoying the way she could encourage her body’s lingering hunger. She didn’t tease herself, she knew she wouldn’t last long doing so with Ted beside her anyway, just pressed with now-slick fingers and found the gentle back and forth movement she knew well, rolling her hips along just slightly. She was nearly there when she felt Ted’s hand join her own, and she opened her eyes to meet his as together they got her there, this third orgasm softer than the earlier ones, the pop of a warm bubble somewhere inside herself. She let out a sigh when it finished and giggled, rolling back to bury her face in his chest.

‘Thank you,’ she said after a moment, when the hormonal giggles had subsided. ‘For taking care of me.’ And she meant physically but also every other way too, the ways that meant flowers on birthdays and shortbread in the mornings and endless reassurances that her life was anything but the gigantic fuck-up she thought it was in her darkest moments. He kissed her hair and tightened his arms around her.

‘Always, darlin,’ he said, and they stayed like that. Sweaty and spent, and they fell asleep in the city that never sleeps as somewhere down the street a neighbor yelled at his dog and a siren wailed down 2nd Avenue.

In the morning, they ate breakfast together at the kitchen table, Ted scrambling eggs and making toast. Rebecca was sure to tell him she loved him as often as possible, wanting this morning after to erase any doubts lingering from their first one. He indulged her, grinning and kissing her deeply each time she said it like he could never hear it enough.

While he showered, Rebecca checked her phone, prepared to update Keeley on at least the less sexual details of her reunion with Ted. Their message thread was still full of Keeley’s exuberant questions, ranging from did you tell him you loved him? to have you taken that mustache for a ride yet? But below all that was the most recent message, a distinctive fuzzy black and white sonogram image. It’s officially official, Keeley had written, accompanied by a series of pink hearts and exclamation points.

I love you, Rebecca wrote back. And also yes, I told Ted. We’ve been very… happy with a wink to go with it, before she tucked her phone back into her purse. Ted chose that moment to leave the bathroom in just one of Carina’s threadbare towels around his waist, and she was across the room and in his arms seconds later.

‘I’m going to be an auntie,’ she said, grinning, arms around his neck. He blinked a water droplet out of his eye. ‘Keeley’s pregnant.’ He lit up at that, lifting her from the ground by her waist.

‘Well that’s almost the best news I’ve heard this morning.’

‘Almost?’

‘Hearing you love me will always be the best.’ She cackled and kissed him, not caring that he was getting her clothes wet.

‘You’re a ridiculous man, Ted Lasso.’ He danced her backwards towards the bedroom as they laughed, and it only took one quick pass at the knot on his towel before she had him naked again. They tumbled together back onto the unmade bed, in the little bedroom that smelled like sex and the flowery shampoo of Keeley’s they’d both used to wash their hair, and Rebecca hoped she’d never stop craving him the way she did.

‘But I’m yours,’ he said between kisses. And he was.

There was a whole city beyond their walls. Theater to be seen and museums to marvel at, people to meet. Food to try and concerts to dance at. They saw it on their next trip.