I open the balcony door and step outside. The morning air is still, warm, and quiet. Just the way I like it. I put my hands on the railing and look out at the mountains for a moment before turning around.

“Ready?”

Charlie, who’s still sprawled out on the bed, opens his eyes but doesn’t move.

“You’re getting fat. Sorry to be blunt, but you are.”

He stretches and groans, ignoring me as I put on my shoes. I make it downstairs before he drags his lazy ass out of bed. I feed him then check my email, making a mental list—that I’ll forget as the day goes on—of all the shit I need to do before the wedding.

I agreed to make the chuppah before seeing Alice’s list of demands: rustic but elegant, a silk top, with the wedding date carved along the top along with the vows—in Hebrew. She sent the vows in English, and I have no idea if the English-to-Hebrew translator I found on Google is correct.

I read over an email from my boss, interested by the proposal’s minimal description. Mermaid zombies will be fun to work with. An idea will come to me as I run, like it usually does, and today I’ll detour to the lake for some underwater inspiration.

I stick my cordless headphones in my ears and head out. Now that he ate, Charlie’s ready to run. He’s seven now, and it pains me to see him start to slow. I crouch down, letting him lick my face.

“We’ll take it easy today, all right, buddy?”

Taking a deep breath, we head out. Charlie follows behind, then sprints ahead, and then goes off the trail, emerging later covered in mud. It’s been so dry this season I have no idea how he found anything other than dusty dirt. Leave it to this dog to roll in mud in the middle of a drought.

I slow once the trees thin, walking the rest of the way to the lake for Charlie’s sake. He jumps in, lapping up the cool water. I sit on a rock, tipping my head up to the breeze coming off the mountain.

The beach is filling with people fast, and Charlie looks across the water at them. He comes back to the shore and shakes, spraying me with water.

“Thanks, Char.” I shake my head and flick water from my face, though really, it felt good. I’m half tempted to take off my shoes and jump in myself. Instead, I get up and walk along the water’s edge, thinking about how to draw the zombie mermaids without looking lame or hokey.

Not wanting to face responsibilities today, Charlie and I take the long way home. I’m hot and sweaty and Charlie is a filthy mess by the time we reach the yard. He slowed down about a mile ago and perks up when he sees someone on the porch.

I pick up my pace to a jog, snickering when he puts his muddy paws on Veronica’s pink shorts.

“Charlie! Look what you did! Ew, you stink. Jack, get him!”

“Come here,” I say, stifling a laugh. Charlie turns and his tail whacks Veronica’s legs. She huffs and brushes the dirt from her clothes. “Hey, sis. Want a hug?”

She wrinkles her nose. “You smell worse than Charlie.”

I pull my shirt off and use it to mop up the sweat from my face. “What are you doing here?”

“Can’t I come visit my big brother?”

“You never come visit.”

“I brought you leftovers from last night. You should have come. Mom and Aunt Lucy drank too much wine and made up songs. Complete with choreography.”

“That would have been fun to see.”

She shakes her head. “It was embarrassing. I recorded it, of course.”

I unlock the front door. “You’ll have to show me.”

Veronica follows me in, and I grab Charlie before he goes to the living room to nap on the gray area rug in front of the fireplace. Realizing wiping him off with rags is a futile point, I take him into the mudroom and put him in the dog wash.

“This turned out really nice.” Veronica leans against the door frame, watching me scrub the mud from Charlie’s fur.

“Thanks. It took long enough.”

“Are you going to come home anytime soon?”

“This is home.” I rinse out the shampoo and grab a towel to dry off Charlie. I stand back and let him shake first.

“You know what I mean. To Mom and Dad’s.”

“Probably not.”

Veronica doesn’t like my response. “But we haven’t seen you in a while.”

“You’re seeing me now.” I toss the damp towel inside the tub. “And I’ll see everyone else in June. And I mean everyone.”

“Oh right. The wedding. How’s the chuppah coming?”

“All right, I think. I’m still working on carving the vows into it. I had to translate them first.”

“Alice let you read her vows before the ceremony?”

“She had to if she wanted them carved into the wood.”

“Right.” We go into the kitchen.

“The vows are right there if you want to read them. They’re lame. I think she ripped them from song lyrics.” I motion to a paper on the table. My stomach grumbles and I go right to the Tupperware full of enchiladas Veronica brought. I stick them in the microwave and down a glass of water.

“I was thinking of taking the bookshelf from your old room and putting it the back of my closet like a shoe shelf.”

“Okay?” I grab a fork and look curiously at my sister. “And you’re telling me because?”

“I need you to help me move it. It’s heavy.”

“Have Dad help you. And it’s not that heavy. It has those felt-things on the bottom so you can push it easily on the floor.”

“I already tried moving it and almost knocked it over. Can’t you come help me? Please?”

“Why do you want me to come home?” The microwave beeps. I flip the enchiladas and stick them in for another few seconds.

“I told you. I miss you and I need help moving the bookshelf from your old room.”

“You mean that one?” I use my fork to point to it.

“Dammit,” Veronica mutters under her breath. “When did you take it?”

“Last year. So, your attempt at moving it is bullshit. Why don’t you tell me what you’re up to?”

“Fine.” She lets out a breath and looks up like she’s about to deliver bad news. “Nora is back.”

My heart momentarily stops beating. That is bad news. Very bad news. My mind jumps back, and this time the flashback is welcome. We’re standing on the mountain, watching snow float down to the lake so still and smooth its surface looks like a sheet of glass. My arms are around her. We’re both freezing. And neither one wants to move.

The microwave beeps again, pulling me from my trance. It’s easy to get lost in thought about Nora.

“How do you know?” I finally ask, taking the food to the table.

“I saw her this morning at the farmers’ market. She looks good. Really good.”

Pain spreads across my chest. Pain, and guilt. There’s nothing I regret more than the lie I told Nora four years ago. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and I pulled the trigger on my best friend.

I don’t love you anymore.

She laughed after I said it, thinking it was a joke. I’ll never forget the look in her eyes when I said it again, and I’ll never forgive myself for the pain I caused. I shot Jason for the greater good. I broke up with Nora for her own good.

She never got angry. Never demanded an explanation or told me she hated me. What happened instead was worse. I watched from afar, seeing the hurt I caused. She stopped hanging out with Veronica. Stopped going outside. I never saw her in the treehouse again.

I broke my own heart letting her go, but I couldn’t live with myself knowing I dimmed her light. She was supposed to be better off without me.

“That’s good.” My voice threatens to catch in my throat, giving away how raw the pain is even after all this time. I’m able to fool my sister, but Charlie, who’s been busy rubbing on the couch, tips his head in my direction.

“She told me she just graduated.”

“Yeah?”

“From Berkeley. With a degree in civil engineering. And she’s getting her master’s degree now.”

Hearing she did go to Berkeley after all should make me happy. It doesn’t. It only furthers the ache in my chest, reminding me how fucking selfish I am. I still want her. Still miss her. Still long to have her in my bed, feeling her slender body against mine.

“So, are you going to swing by the house?”

“No,” I say, and the heaviness in my chest starts to spread through my whole body. “There’s no point. It’s too late now.”