I walk into the office Monday morning to complete silence. The newsroom is never quiet. At first I think everyone must have gotten wind of what happened Friday night—Nate and I leaving the party early together and then me avoiding him for the rest of the weekend. I still haven’t read the text messages or listened to his voice mails. And when he stopped by my apartment Sunday morning, I hid in my room sobbing into my pillow.

David raises his head, and the second he sees me, he waves me over to his desk. He scoots over and motions for me to sit down next to him on the swivel chair. We don’t exactly fit, but we make do. “Monohan was fired,” he whispers in my ear.

“What?” I don’t whisper, and everyone turns to look at me.

“Shh!” David whisper shouts. “Marjorie Strauss is in his office right now. She fired him in front of all of us. Berated him for recommending Nate over Oliver for the position at The Sentinel. She said he wasn’t fit to run this paper and that Oliver would be the editor-in-chief from here on out.”

“Oliver?” Again, I don’t keep my voice down.

David rolls his eyes. “Woman, do you know the meaning of the word ‘whisper’?”

“How could she think Oliver is more qualified than Nate?” Even mentioning his name brings a stabbing pain to my chest.

Mr. Monohan’s office door opens, and Marjorie Strauss comes strutting out. “Oh good. More of you have arrived.” She smiles brightly. “We are restructuring here at Priority News. My son, Oliver, will be the new editor-in-chief. He will appoint a managing editor he feels is fit to fill the position. Some of the editors may be shifted around as well. Whatever Ollie believes will best serve this paper.”

Ollie? I can’t work for him. He’ll run this paper into the ground. I meet Mr. Monohan’s gaze, and he gives me his most encouraging “hang in there” smile. No. I’m not hanging in here.

I stand up and walk out of David’s cubicle to mine. I open my top desk drawer and remove my day planner with all my contacts in it. Then I grab the framed photo of Nate, Ashley, Neil, and me.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Oliver asks, moving toward me. His eyes narrow, and he points to the items in my hands.

“Quitting. If Mr. Monohan is leaving, then so am I.” I have no reason to stay here, and I certainly won’t stick around to go down with the ship.

Mr. Monohan shakes his head. “Aria, you don’t have to do that. Seriously. I’ll be fine.”

“I know you will. It’s not you I’m worried about. It’s this paper and the people who stay on with someone who is admittedly a great writer but doesn’t have what it takes to be editor-in-chief. He couldn’t inspire a staff if his life depended on it.”

“Ms. Carmichael!” Marjorie steps closer to me. “You’re fired!”

I smile at her. “Great. Then I’ll get to collect unemployment while I look for a new job. Thanks.”

Monohan laughs. “I’ll walk you out. We can go to unemployment together.”

“Sounds like a date,” I say, looping my arm through his.

“Wait up.” I don’t need to turn to know it’s David.

I cock my head at him, not wanting him to sacrifice a paycheck just because I did. Emily turns and looks at him, and they share a silent communication. She stands up, empties her desk drawer into her purse, and walks out of her cubicle.

“Are you people all imbeciles?” Marjorie asks, looking dumbfounded.

“Quite the opposite,” I say. “Only an imbecile would work for Oliver and you. You might as well change the paper to Mommy and Ollie because you’ll be the only people left in no time, I’m sure.”

The four of us walk out. I’m not sure the others will actually leave. They have families to consider. For once, not having ties to hold me back is a good thing. Of course that makes me think of Nate. If he were here right now, he’d be walking out with me. We’d be arm in arm, not me and Mr. Monohan.

“I kind of expected Oliver to put up some sort of fight,” David says.

“Yeah, it was very anticlimactic.” Emily frowns, making me wonder if she’s actually disappointed no one yelled at her.

“Aria, you have to call Nate and tell him about this,” David says.

I shrug a shoulder. “I’m sure he’s busy getting settled into his new job. I’ll tell him later.” I don’t want any of them to know what’s really going on between Nate and me, not that I know either.

We all part ways at the parking garage with the agreement to meet at Last Call at seven to celebrate our freedom and discuss possible leads for new positions. I drive home, calling Ashley on the way.

She answers on the second ring. “Hey. Why aren’t you at work?”

“Because Oliver Strauss is the new editor-in-chief and I quit on the spot, along with three others. Well, technically, Mr. Monohan and I were fired and—”

“You were fired?” she screams into the phone.

“Ouch! Do you know how much that echoes through the Bluetooth?”

“Sorry, but this is huge.”

“More huge than the fact that I haven’t talked to Nate since Friday night when we made out on my couch?” I blurt it out, cringing in anticipation of her reaction.

“Why didn’t you tell me this sooner? You, the journalist, buried the lead!”

“I didn’t want to talk about it.” I tighten my grip on the steering wheel.

“So what happened? You made out again? That’s three times now.”

“I’m well aware. But I had to stop it before it went any further. He’s gone, Ash. And he’s not coming back.”

“Yeah, well, now you don’t have a job keeping you here. Go to Pennsylvania. Surprise him and see where this goes.”

“Drive to The Sentinel?” I don’t know where Nate’s apartment is, so that would be my only option.

“Why not? What do you have to lose at this point?”

“I don’t know. It’s too much to think about right now. I have to figure out what I’m going to do about another job.” I turn into my apartment complex. “I’m home now. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Promise me you’ll listen to his voice mails. I’m sure he left you more than one, and you’ve probably been ignoring them, right?”

She knows me well. “Thanks, Mom.”

“I’m only trying to help because I love you.”

“I know. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye.”

I hang up and get out of the car, only to be greeted by Michelle, who’s getting out of her car, too.

“Hey, Aria. Short work day for you?”

“You too, I see.”

She laughs and we walk into the building. “How’s Nate doing? I miss seeing him around here already.”

“He’s an easy guy to miss,” I say, waving and opting for the stairs to avoid having to discuss Nate further. I take them two at a time to make sure I get to our floor before Michelle does. I open the door and quickly lock it behind me when I hear the elevator doors ding. I head straight for the couch, sitting in the spot Nate last occupied. I breathe deeply, letting his scent fill my senses. It brings tears to my eyes as I force my phone from my purse and press play on my first voice mail message.

“Aria, I wish I knew what was going on between us or why you panicked tonight. I didn’t mean to push things. You’re my best friend, and I don’t want to lose you. Please call me so we can talk through this.”

“Hey, me again. I was hoping you’d slept on it and want to talk today. I’ll be at my apartment all day. Feel free to stop by or call. Or I could come there. Let me know, but I really think we need to talk.”

“It’s Sunday, and I’m leaving in a few hours. I’m going to try stopping by. I really want to see you before I go. I miss you, Aria.”

“So that’s it? I know you’re hiding in your room. Your car is downstairs. I can only assume this is how you want things to end. I respect your wishes, Aria, but know I don’t want this. I need you in my life. I won’t keep calling, but if you decide you want to talk or see me again, I’m here. I’ll always be here for you.”

I drop my phone onto the couch next to me and sob into the cushions. This isn’t what I wanted. I didn’t want him to go, and I knew if I saw him, I’d tell him that. And then what? He either would have left, shattering my heart, or he would have stayed for me and resented me for it. I’d rather he move on and be happy without me.

I’m not sure how long I spend on the couch, but my tears have long since dried up when there’s a knock on my door. I wipe my eyes with the backs of my hands and walk to the door. Peering through the peephole, I see Ashley with two containers of Ben and Jerry’s cookie dough ice cream. I fling the door open and throw myself into her arms.

“I knew you’d listen to his messages and figured you’d need this.” She holds up the containers as I pull away. She comes inside, heading for the kitchen.

I close the door and resume my former place on the couch. Until Nate’s scent is gone from the cushions, no one else is sitting in this seat.

Ashley joins me on the couch with two spoons. I take a container from her, which she’s already opened, and dig right in. The cold is soothing, numbing. I wish I could numb my heart. Turn off what I’m feeling.

“What are you going to do?”

I lick the back of my spoon. “What can I do? He’s gone.”

“But you could go see him. You don’t have a job anymore. There’s nothing else to wake up for in the morning.”

“Gee, thanks.” I roll my eyes at her poor excuse for a pep talk.

She laughs. “I meant you could drive there and surprise him.”

“Show up at his new job, say I was fired, and apologize for blowing him off all weekend?”

“Maybe aim for showing up during his lunch hour. It will be less humiliating if you don’t announce all that in front of his colleagues.” She winks.

“You’re a real comedian.” I fill my spoon again, getting several chunks of cookie dough, and stuff it all in my mouth. The brain freeze that ensues is mind-shattering. I put the pint on the coffee table, stabbing the spoon into it, and then grab my forehead. “Damn it!”

“Well, that’s one way to get Nate off your mind.”

I glare at her under my hand, which is massaging my head to no avail. It takes several minutes for the pain to diminish. I grab the container again and take a more human-sized portion.

“Why don’t you call him?” She turns on the couch so she’s facing me. “I mean, what could it hurt at this point?”

My ego, my heart, what’s left of my friendship with Nate. “I need to find another job. That’s what I need to be doing.”

“So you’re going to deal with this by pretending it’s not happening? Mature, Aria.” She puts her ice cream on the coffee table and takes my hand in hers. “Look, I’m not going to go all Mom on you, but how focused are you going to be in a job interview when you’re nursing a broken heart?”

I jab my spoon into the ice cream. “I’m not nursing a broken heart. Nate and I weren’t dating. We hooked up once and kissed a few times. And we were drunk every single time. That’s all it was.” To him anyway.

“Really?” She raises a brow in challenge. “How many messages did he leave you?”

“A few.” I shrug, like it’s no big deal.

“Let me hear them.” She holds her hand out for my phone.

“No. Why?” I lean back against the arm of the couch so she can’t reach my phone in my back pocket.

“What’s the big deal? If they don’t mean anything, then let me listen to them.”

“There’s no point.”

She reaches around me, but I hold the spoon up in defense.

“What? You’re going to spoon me to death?” She rolls her eyes and goes for my phone again.

This time I jump up. I don’t want her listening to the messages. They’re meant for me. “Stop, Ash. I mean it.”

“Look at you.” She motions the length of my body. “You’re a wreck, Aria. Until you deal with this, you’re not going to be able to find a new job or move on. Call him, or I’m calling him for you.”

“To say what?” I shriek. “That I’m lost without him? That I’ve been sniffing the couch and crying my eyes out and eating cookie dough?” God, it’s so much more pathetic when I say it aloud. I put the spoon and ice cream down and collapse on the couch. “That those kisses meant more to me than they did to him? That I took advantage of us both being drunk to do something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time now? Is that what you’ll tell him? Is that what I should tell him?”

“Yes.” She reaches for my hand, taking it between hers. “You should tell him.”

“What if he rejects me? What then?”

She sighs and stares into my eyes. “Would it be any worse than what you’re feeling now?”