Then

I check the peephole, because I've learned you don't just open the door. Not when you're me.

"Eden," I say, opening the door to my babysitter, who's dressed in an adorable I ? NYC T-shirt and black joggers. "Did I book you for Annaleigh and forget?"

It's just after seven, and Annaleigh is finally asleep after a fussy start.

After the awfulness of last night, I told Josh it might be good for him to get out of town for the weekend. Get a change of scenery, connect with some of his old Indianapolis friends. He agreed—thank God.

Eden smiles awkwardly. "No. I just wanted to stop by. Is that okay? Do you have a minute?"

"Sure." I open the door wider. She seems nervous. Is there a problem? Or is she trying to be a friend? I resist the urge to check my makeup. I was meticulous this morning covering my black eye, and I've touched it up a few times since. Anyway, the lighting is low. It should be fine.

Eden stands in my living room, hands in her pockets, and looks around the space, like she's not sure what to do.

"Can I offer you something to drink?" I beckon her to follow me to the kitchen. "You caught me alone! Josh is up in Indy for the weekend."

"Yeah, I saw him leave earlier."

"He's seeing some friends. You know, blowing off some steam. It's been such a hard few months!" I flip the lights on in the kitchen and make for the fridge.

I texted Camila this morning and asked her to reach out to Josh. He needs more support than just me. Josh doesn't know it yet, but she's flying in from Austin on a red-eye to surprise him tomorrow morning.

What's really going on with you guys?she said. It's not every day a wife calls up her husband's ex and asks her to show him a good time.

I had to laugh at that. Yes, there were times that I felt jealous of Camila. Those times are long gone, though. Now, I need the support of strong people who can see us through this tough time.

His mom's death has hit him super hard, I said. He needs a reset.

If Cam didn't entirely buy my simplified explanation, she didn't let on.

I'll take Josh on a bender the size of Texas, she promised. He'll come back a new man.

"Are you okay staying here alone?" Eden leans on the counter as I make for the fridge. "I know you guys have had some trouble with, like...property damage? I can crash on your couch if you—"

"I'm fine! We actually just got a dog! He's a big teddy bear, but he has a scary bark, so... What do you want? Sparkling water? Juice? I also have alcoholic options."

"I'd take something strong," says Eden.

There's a low woof behind me and I turn to see Captain, awoken from his slumber. The rescue group told us he's probably about two years old, already full grown. Huge, actually.

"Aw, hey, big guy," says Eden, sinking to her knees as Captain investigates her. She buries her hands in the floof around his neck, and I give them smiling glances before returning to my beverage endeavors. The vermouth is running low, but there should be enough for a couple drinks.

"How about martinis?" I jiggle a little jar of olives.

"Sounds great," says Eden, a little too enthusiastically. Either she's forcing it, or she really likes martinis. "So...what are you up to while Josh is gone?" She scratches Captain's head as I scoop ice into the cocktail shaker—Camila's wedding gift to us. Captain whines, giving Eden a look of sheer adoration.

"Oh... I need to catch up on cleaning. And I might try a new recipe." Slightly true, but not entirely. I measure in the vodka and vermouth. I've actually decided to watch our season of The Proposal for the very first time. Josh and I promised each other we wouldn't, but I need it. I need to remember what he was like back then. What I was like. What we were like together. What it is I'm fighting for.

"What about you?" I say. "Weekend plans?"

"Nothing much."

The shaker makes a racket for the next few seconds. Then I pour the drinks into two rustic mugs; Rita didn't drink and we have yet to buy proper martini glasses. Our wedding gifts are nearly the only things in this house that are truly Josh's and mine. It's a patchwork life. A shaker, but no glasses. A set of towels, with a mismatched bath mat. A human and a Synth. America's most eligible bachelor, who also hits his wife.

Only twice, I remind myself, already in a slight panic at this intrusive thought. It was only twice and it never has to happen again.

"So..." I slide the mug toward Eden, trying to give her an opening since it's becoming more and more obvious there's something on her mind.

"Yeah... I'm not very good at this, so I'll just say it."

Okay, now she's making me nervous.

"Are you safe?" she blurts out. "You have—" She touches her eye, and I reflexively touch mine, before lowering my hand quickly.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to embarrass you," Eden says as shame burns through me, "but—Julia...if there's anything you want to tell me—" She stops, her eyes on me pleading.

I set my martini mug gently on the counter, trying to keep my facial expression neutral. The two awful incidents have been...well, awful. But having someone notice? It's exponentially worse. Using all my willpower, I force my lips into a smile. It feels like throwing a thin sheet of ice over an ocean of turmoil.

"I'm fine, Eden. Thanks for your concern, but truly, I—"

"I know Josh is hurting you." She reaches forward and touches my arm with delicate fingers. I force myself to keep still, even though her touch burns me as much as her words. I can almost feel the ice cracking.

Her voice goes intense. "You don't have to stay. I know it's complicated, because of you being a Synth, but I'll help—"

"Stop," I take a desperate step back and turn away from Eden, because tears are pooling and I don't want my babysitter of all people to see.

Get yourself under control, Julia.

"You know, I think I need a second drink," I say in a voice that's too cold, too collected. Eden is silent as I pull out the vodka and vermouth again, thunking them on the counter harder than the first time, like part of me hopes they'll explode into shards. "How about you?"

"No." Her voice is small. Chastised. "I'm good."

She's quiet as I kick the fridge door closed.

"I'm sorry if I made things weird." Eden looks miserable.

But not as miserable as I am.

"It's fine," I say brightly. "Thanks for stopping by."

She takes the hint.

As soon as I've locked the door behind her, I fling open my laptop and pull up the tab where I already have Episode 1 ready. I sit on the living room floor with my second martini and the remainder of the bottle of vodka and hit Play.

It's not until I see myself stepping out of the limo that I start to cry.

Hi.

Are you blushing?

I look so...young. So bright-eyed. So naive. Why does it hurt so much to see?

How can I make it stop hurting?

Sorry. Can we start again? Hi! I'm Julia.

Hi, Julia, I'm Josh. I see you've made yourself comfortable. I like that.

I find myself mouthing the words along with my old self.

I like you.

Part of me wants to reach forward and pluck her off the screen, out of the set, out from in front of Josh, and tell her no. Stop. Wait.

But what I want even more is to step into the screen. Back into the magic of that moment, and the moments that followed. And then, live it over. And over. And over. And fix it. Fucking fix whatever broke, before it breaks again.

I drag the video player backward.

Hi, Julia, I'm Josh. I see you've made yourself comfortable. I like that.

I like you.

I punch Pause. Back again.

As the vodka disappears and the hours tick forward, I'm transported to a softer place. The place that was supposed to be our foundation, and instead turned out to be nothing but a dream.

But what a lovely dream it was.