I pour the last of the wine into Aria’s glass. This is the third bottle we’ve polished off. Most of my packing still remains to be done, but I don’t care. Spending the day with Aria was exactly what I needed. Neither of us mentioned the job or the awkwardness that’s been building between us. For one blissful afternoon and evening, we were our old selves, enjoying each other’s company until well after the sun went down.

“I should go home,” Aria says. “We both have to get up for work in”—she looks at her phone, tips her head back, and laughs—“three hours.”

“No. That can’t be right.” I reach for her phone. “You must be holding this thing upside down.”

“I think you’re upside down,” she says, leaning back against the couch. “At least you look it. How much did we drink?”

“Too much. You can’t drive like this.”

“No, I really can’t. I’ll have to take a cab.”

“Crash here. You can have my bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

She shakes her head. “No way. I’m not kicking you out of your own bed. You barely fit on this couch.” She spreads her arms out to mimic the size of the couch and winds up whacking me in the head. “Sorry.” She covers her mouth with her hand.

“Come on.” I stand up, scooping her into my arms. “You need rest.”

She leans her head against my chest. “You smell good.”

“I probably smell like pepperoni.”

“I like pepperoni.” She tilts her head up and breathes against my neck. Then she presses her mouth against my neck in a soft kiss.

“What are you doing, Aria?” I ask, keeping my voice soft and not judgmental. Why is it that whenever she’s drunk, she comes on to me? Why only then? And as soon as she sobers up, she runs in the opposite direction.

“Hmm?” She nuzzles my neck.

“Never mind. Go to sleep.” I bring her into my bedroom and place her gently on my bed. Luckily, the covers are still turned down because I never made the bed this morning.

“Will you hold me?”

“You want me to sleep here, too?” I ask, wanting to be sure.

She nods and pats the bed next to her. I slide in beside her and cover us both with the sheet. She immediately snuggles up against me.

“I’m going to dream about pepperoni pizza.”

I reach behind her head and unclip her hair, placing the clip on the nightstand. Then I run my fingers through her long, blond locks. “You dream about whatever you want.”

She murmurs into my chest, and I hold her until she falls asleep. I don’t actually sleep much because I want to savor every moment with her. In a matter of days, I’ll be gone. She’ll go on with her life and probably find a new best friend. It would be ironic if it were Charlotte. She’d fill my shoes in more ways than one.

At around 4:30, Aria starts mumbling in her sleep. The only words I can make out are “I love you,” and for one brief moment I let myself pretend those words are for me. That the woman I’ve been falling for over the course of the past several years loves me back.

I drift off at some point because my alarm wakes us both up at six. Aria grabs her head, which I’m sure is throbbing, and I swat at my phone on the nightstand to silence it.

“Let’s call in sick,” Aria says. “We can pretend we caught something at The Sentinel.” She drapes her arm across her forehead, most likely blocking out the sunlight filtering in through the partially closed curtains.

“If Oliver shows up for work, he’ll foil that plan right away.” I start to sit up, but then I lay back, realizing Aria didn’t run this time. Of course, it’s probably because her head is pounding louder than a speaker at a rock concert, but still. She’s here. In my bed. And while nothing happened between us last night, this feels good. Like home. At least for a few more days.

“My head feels like it’s about to explode. Calling in sick wouldn’t be a lie.”

“Stay here. I’ll get you some aspirin.”

I get out of bed, being careful to go slow. My own head isn’t much better than Aria’s. I head for the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, grabbing four aspirin. I quickly brush my teeth and then go to the kitchen for two glasses of water. I take my aspirin immediately, chasing them with half a glass of water. Then I bring Aria’s to her. She’s sitting up and clipping her hair again.

“Thanks,” she says when I hand everything to her. After swallowing the aspirin, she swishes the water around her mouth and swallows.

“I’ll make us some coffee,” I say. “There should be an extra toothbrush in the top drawer of the vanity. Can you make it there on your own?”

“Yeah. I’ve got it.” She swings her legs out of the bed and proceeds with caution.

She’s right. We can’t go into work like this. Aria could get fired, and I’m not about to let that happen. I grab my cell and dial Mr. Monohan.

“Dixon, I got the news last night. Congrats are officially in order now.”

“Thanks. Unfortunately, Aria and I both caught something yesterday at The Sentinel. Nasty stomach bug. I woke up feeling terrible, and when I called Aria, she was no better.”

“Sorry to hear that. Take the day. You have a lot to do anyway. Tell Aria she can work from home. No need for her to come in.”

“Thank you, sir. And thank you for the job recommendation. You’ve always looked out for me.”

“Paul told me you tried to give me credit. It was all you, though, Dixon. You’ve got what it takes. I’m not letting your loyalty hold you back. I’m sure Aria feels the same way. Feel better.” He hangs up, leaving me to ponder his words.

My loyalty to Aria runs much deeper than my loyalty to Priority News and Mr. Monohan. Can I really abandon our friendship? I fill the coffee pot with water and measure out the grinds. Once I hit the brew button, I head to the bedroom to check on Aria. She’s back in bed but awake.

“How do you feel?”

“Like I drank three bottles of wine last night to avoid dealing with the fact that my best friend is moving away.” Her eyes widen, which makes her cringe. “I didn’t mean to say that. I’m sorry. I’m happy for you, Nate.”

I sit down next to her. “I know you are. Believe me, Aria, I wish we could both transfer to The Sentinel. The two of us in a new state, with a new paper, starting a new life.” Together.

She fidgets with the sheet in her fists. “I think I made a good impression on Mr. Weston. Maybe one day I’ll join you there.”

“The second a position opens up, I’ll let you know and let Mr. Weston know he should hire you.”

She smiles. “You always have my back. What am I going to do without you?” Her eyes glisten with tears.

“Don’t.” I sit next to her and pull her into a hug.

“I’m sorry. This is silly. You’re moving one state away. It’s not like we won’t talk and see each other.”

It won’t be the same, though. No more late nights on each other’s couches. No more impromptu Sunday brunches. No more looking up from my cubicle to see the back of her head as she types on her computer. My life is going to change, and I’m not sure I’m happy about it.

“Tell you what, let’s spend the whole day together. I’ll call a moving company to pack up the rest of my things. We’ll go to the lake, have a picnic lunch, and come up with a plan for how often we’ll get to see each other. I’m sure there are plenty of places to meet halfway between here and The Sentinel.” I need a plan, some confirmation that I’m not going to lose her to this move.

She pulls away slightly and looks into my eyes. “Okay. We’ve got until Sunday, right?”

I nod. “Plenty of time to work this out.” But not enough time to make up for all the days I won’t get to see her.

“I should head home and shower.”

I don’t want her to leave my sight for even a second, but what can I do? She has no idea how I feel about her, and telling her days before I move away is just cruel—to both of us. I’d either ruin our friendship, which would mean I’d probably never see her again once I leave the state, or by some miracle she’ll tell me she feels the same way and then both our hearts will break because I’ll still have to move. Unable to do anything else, I watch her leave my apartment, making her promise to text me when she gets home.

I feel her absence immediately. The ache in my chest is overwhelming, so I jump into a scalding hot shower to try to numb myself against it. I never should have let my feelings get this strong. Not that there was any way to prevent it from happening. At least when she was dating Aaron, I had a reason to curb them. He hadn’t always been the dick he is now. At one point, he really seemed to care about her. Ambition ruined him. Ruined them. Hell, his ambition ruined me because now all I can think about is Aria being free to date whomever she’d like. If we’d been together when the job opportunity came along, I never would have taken it. I’d stay here for her. Or I would have encouraged her to go for it and then moved with her if she got the job. I can’t ask Aria to come with me, though. Friends don’t do that, and that’s all we are. All we can be because of the situation we’re in.

Why does love have to hurt so damn much?