Bex was in a tailspin.

It’d been nearly two weeks since she’d told Henny goodbye, and he hadn’t tried to contact her. No texts, no calls, no showing up at the bar after his games. She didn’t know whether to appreciate that he’d finally decided to respect her boundaries, or to call him up and tear him a new one for letting her push him away so easily. But despite all the confrontations she played out in her mind, re-imagining all the right things to do and say, ultimately she’d done nothing. Nothing but let him walk out that door, right out of her life.

And now, in the smallest, stickiest booth in the darkest corner of the bar, Bex sat nursing a glass of whiskey, trying not to notice the mahogany pool table that gleamed at the center of the room. Trying not to notice the fact that everything good in her life had evaporated.

Henny was gone. Her mom would be back from Florida soon, ready to put the pub on the market. She’d be out a job, out everything she’d come to love and cherish here in Buffalo.

Where do I go from here?

She reached into her pocket, pulled out the folded paper where so many weeks ago she’d sketched out her logo ideas—the powerful phoenix reborn in the fires of an old life, rising out of the ashes of tragedy. What better imagery to symbolize all she’d endured, right? She’d survived a horrible breakup. She’d seen her life savings, her business, all of her plans burn to ash, forcing her to move back home to Buffalo, yet somehow she’d found the strength to rise up and start over. Stronger. Better.

Before now, the days following her breakup had been the most painful of her life. She’d thought that if she could survive them, she could survive anything.

But now she knew that was bullshit.

Her ex? Hell, that guy had simply messed up her plans. Losing Henny, though… that was a broken heart. Now that he was gone, how could anything ever be okay again?

Bex sipped her whiskey, blinking back tears. She could hear the voices of her friends echoing, Eva and Fee encouraging her to give this thing with Henny a shot, give it time, give him space, give herself space. She thought about all those romance novels and movies where she’d wanted to scream at the couple to just sit down and talk things through—how it was so obvious they were meant for each other, that they could have a beautiful life together if only they’d wake up and get over themselves.

How many times had she rolled her eyes at that stuff?

Now, she was living it. She got it. Maybe this rift between her and Henny could’ve been repaired with a heartfelt conversation, but when she’d looked in his eyes that night in her office, when she saw the coldness there, all of her words vanished. She didn’t know how to make him understand how deeply she cared for him, and how simultaneously scared shitless she was to admit it. How embarrassed she was about all of the mistakes she’d made in the past.

For as strong as Henny thought she was, most days she was terrified she’d fall apart again. How could she admit that? How could she tell him that she didn’t want him to be there when it happened?

That she really did want him to be there, just like he’d been there in California?

That she really was falling for him?

That she was beginning to suspect it’d started years ago, maybe decades. A spark working its way into the foundations of their friendship, slowly igniting into the flames of something so much more.

I am in love with my best friend.

The loss hit her all over again, fresh as the night he’d walked out. The emptiness inside her was so vast, so endless, she didn’t know if she could ever crawl out of it.

How did it come to this?

Bex tucked the sketches back into her pocket. She was no phoenix, and what’d happened with Henny wasn’t some mystery, some great, unsolved vanishing in the night. The simple fact was she’d lost him because their relationship had changed, and she’d refused to change along with it. She’d wanted all the benefits of something new while keeping everything else exactly the same, especially the easy parts—the good times, the shared history, the jokes.

Maybe that was enough for a friendship—even a friendship with benefits. But when it came to someone you loved, someone you wanted to make a life with, there was so much more to it.

You had to be willing to fight the hard battles, to show your ugly parts and help him feel safe enough to show his. You had to strip yourself bare, to take the kind of big, impossible risks that shook you up and wrung you out. No matter the outcome, with a true partner by your side, all those difficulties would only be half as painful. And the joys? They’d be doubly beautiful. Always.

That’s what Bex could’ve had with Henny, but instead she’d let it slip right through her fingers. Why? Because she was afraid of showing him her soft underbelly? Of letting him see all those scary, insecure parts? Because she was too wrapped up in her own fears to truly see and understand his?

Oh, Hen…

No, it couldn’t end like this. They’d been friends for too many years to let this all fade away. Maybe she’d blown her chance at love—something she’d live to regret for the rest of her days. But there was still one thing she could do for him, one thing to show him that she’d truly heard him. That she appreciated everything he’d tried to do for her, even though she’d been too damn scared to take the risk.

Bex downed the last of her whiskey, shaking off the desolation. She could take that risk now. For Henny. For herself. And maybe someday—a month from now, a year, a decade—someday when that anonymous stranger bumped into her at Wegmans while she was picking out tomatoes, instead of looking into the pleasant eyes of a man she used to know but didn’t quite remember, she’d smile at him warmly, grab his hands, kiss his cheek, and ask if maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back to being friends.

Bex fished the phone from her pocket, checking her calendar for next week. Then, steeling herself for the biggest leap of her life, she pulled up the contact details and hit the call button.