Next Time I Promise We'll Be Perfect

By now Brendon was all but a ghost in my life, except for my suspicions about the glorious flowers on my doorstep. Sometimes I cried, because I'm a fucking baby, and sometimes I'd see a picture of us together and I'd sigh, look at my cat, and eat some cookies. Sometimes I didn't think about him at all, which shocked me but also pleased me. Ryan visited me frequently, like Bridget, and I liked his company well enough. He didn't bring up Brendon, but his presence was enough to remind me. And then, one day, we were eating egg salad and playing Battleship in my living room. And it changed.