“How could you?!” Kiki screamed, her eyes so dilated they looked black in the flickering candlelight. As though she’d just noticed it, she slammed her hand into the wall, flipping the lights on.

Everything between Jess and Scott that had seemed quiet and purposeful and inevitable in the warm candlelight, now, beneath the harsh fluorescents, just seemed tawdry and selfish and so, so stupid.

Jess reached for her dress, thrown over the back of the couch. She didn’t even want to think about where her underwear might be.

“Jessica. Look. At. Me.” Kiki’s voice was a harsh rasp as Jess pulled her dress over her head. She paused for a moment, then, her voice icy, “You’ve always been after him. Right from the start.”

Jess forced herself to meet Kiki’s eyes. “I’m sorry,” was all she could say.

Kiki’s eyes narrowed. “Fuck you.”

“So, tell me about Mykonos. The pictures you posted looked amazing.” Jess wandered the length of her living room, scrolling through the pictures on Kiki’s Instagram account: Kiki and Scott at Le Bernardin. Kiki and Scott backstage at Hamilton. Kiki and Scott kissing on the Brooklyn Bridge. Kiki on the beach in Greece. Scott jumping into the waves.

“Oh my god, it was so dreamy,” Kiki drawled, even her voice sounding sunkissed. “It’s almost too beautiful. Like it can’t be real. Like you’re walking through a movie set.”

“The real thing feels like a simulation of the thing,” Jess murmured, a finger skimming across the neatly arranged bookshelves to the small collection of art theory books left over from college.

“Huh?”

“Nothing.” Jess shook her head. “Did Scott have fun?”

Kiki laughed. “He wore these tiny shorts the whole time. I swear, every man in Greece hit on him. He did look amazing. I don’t know if it was the shorts, but I just can’t get enough of that man. We’d spend the day on the beach, then we’d get dinner, a bottle or two of wine, go back to the hotel and . . .” she trailed off, giggling. “This has just been such a great few months. What is it? Four? Five?”

“It’s been six months, Kiki,” Jess said.

“Six great months,” Kiki said, laughing. “What about you? What have you and Tyler been up to?”

“Oh, this and that,” Jess said, flopping down on her couch, looking critically at the perfect vacuum marks on the rug.

“Yeah,” Kiki sounded distracted, only half-listening as she asked, “like what?”

“Tyler’s watching football, of course,” Jess said. “You and Scott should come out for a game some Sunday,” she added.

“Maybe. Scott’s not really into sports.”

“I’m thinking of redecorating the living room,” Jess said, feeling deflated.

“That’d be nice,” Kiki murmured, her attention definitely elsewhere. “You have such great taste.”

Jess looked around the living room. She had just finished decorating it, getting it to look exactly how she wanted. She had poured all her creative energy into it, and, now that it was done, she felt lost. She sighed. “Sometimes I think I made a big mistake, Kik.”

“What?” Kiki’s attention was back. “What mistake?

“Just,” Kiki couldn’t see her, but Jess gestured around her well appointed living room, “everything. Maybe I traded in too much of my independence for comfort.”

Kiki didn’t answer, and Jess didn’t blame her. It was a heavy confession for a Monday afternoon.

“I miss painting,” Jess said, sinking deeper into the couch.

She’d known this for a while—years now—but this was the first time she’d said it out loud.

“Nothing’s stopping you from painting,” Kiki said, gently. “Tyler’s not. He’d love it if you started up again.”

It was Jess’s turn to not respond. Kiki wasn’t wrong, exactly, but it was hard to explain why she hadn’t picked up a brush since she’d married Tyler. She didn’t quite know herself.

“He’s a good guy, Jess. He loves you.”

Jess took a swipe at her eyes, feeling ridiculous. “I know. I’m fine. I’m just—I’ve got some early winter blues or something. I’m fine.”

“Jess, you just need to get out. You and Tyler should do something, take a cruise, go to dinner—anything. Suburbia’s a killer, girl.”

“Let’s all go to dinner!” Jess said, quickly.

“What?”

“All of us. You and Scott, and me and Tyler. It’ll be fun!” Jess insisted.

“Um,” Kiki stalled, but, when she spoke again, she sounded decided. “Listen, I have to head out for a meeting right now. You set something up for the four of us, and I’ll figure out a way to be free.”

By nighttime, Jess had reservations for four at Balthazar on Thursday. She pulled open her closet doors, feeling triumphant. But her optimism was replaced by irritation as she scanned her clothes. Everything she normally wore—jeans, t-shirts, ballet flats—was shoved in one corner of the closet. Everything else was tragically out of date. Jess could picture Kiki’s look of horror if she showed up in the beige sheath.

Behind her, she heard Tyler walk into the bedroom and kick off his shoes. He sighed as he sunk onto the bed.

“When did I get so frumpy?” Jess asked, from inside the closet.

“Hm?” Tyler had his glasses off, a hand over his dark eyes.

“When did I let myself go? I feel like I used to be cooler. You remember me being cooler, right?”

Tyler chuckled, but didn’t look up. “I don’t know, babe. I think you look great.” He shrugged. “That’s what matters, isn’t it?”

Before Jess could answer, Tyler started snoring.

“I want it all gone.”

“All of it?” The stylist looked nervously at Jess. “You’ve got a lot of hair. And it’s great. How about just a trim?”

“Gone.”

Jess had walked into the salon wanting a drastic change, and she walked out with exactly that. Gone were her honey blonde locks, replaced with a sculptural cut that made her feel outrageous.

A maxed-out credit card later, Jess walked out of Bloomingdale’s, wearing what she’d bought: snug black jeans that hugged her legs from ankle to hip, black leather ankle boots, and a charcoal gray cashmere sweater that slid off one shoulder, revealing the lacy strap of a new black bra. She’d left her old jeans and sweater—and bra—balled up in a corner of the dressing room. No looking back was her new mantra.

She decided to walk downtown, but, halfway to the restaurant, she felt doubt start to edge in. It was a chilly night for October, and the wind blew across her shoulder, across her neck where her hair used to lie, making her ears cold.

It was too much, too bold. She hesitated at the door to the restaurant, wondering how mad Kiki would be if she just bailed completely.

No looking back, she told herself sternly, and stepped into the din.

It was a lot of reactions, for one table, but Jess took them all in: Kiki’s eyes went wide, her mouth open in delighted surprise. Tyler’s eyes slid past her at first, not recognizing her. When he did, his eyebrows furrowed, puzzled. But it was Scott’s reaction that made the tiny hairs on her arms stand up. He leaned back as she approached. His eyes scanned her, head to foot, lazily, as though he had all the time in the world. She didn’t intend to watch him, but when he looked up, meeting her gaze, he gave her a small, conspiratorial smile she couldn’t even begin to interpret.

“You look phenomenal,” Kiki said, her eyes the size of dinner plates. She shook her head with a smile. “Honestly, I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Scott clapped a hand on Tyler’s shoulders. “You’re a lucky man, Tyler. He tipped his head at Jess as she slid into the booth. “A woman like this to call your own,” he said, with a wink at Jess.

Tyler continued to look at Jess, like he was struggling to place her. He glanced over at Scott with a shrug. “I guess, but, to me, she’ll always just be the same old Jess.” He looked at Jess with a shrug. “Just with short hair.”

Jess let out a deflated breath as she sat back in the booth. She ran a hand through her hair. This had been a mistake.

“Well, I think you look amazing,” Kiki said, looking down at her phone. “Sorry, I’ve got to take this,” she said, sliding out of the booth and heading for the front door and the relative quiet of the sidewalk.

“She’ll probably be a second,” Scott said, ruefully.

“In that case, I’ll run to the men’s room before we order,” Tyler said, and Jess stood to let him slide out.

She slid back into the booth, keeping her distance from Scott.

“You look phenomenal,” Scott said, frankly.

Jess ran a nervous hand through her hair. “You don’t think it’s too short?”

“Are you kidding me?” Scott’s eyes slid over her. “You’ve got the face for it. Your cheekbones, your eyes,” --his sought hers again and he smiled. “Not everyone could pull it off, but, on you it’s perfect.”

Jess could feel a flush blooming in her cheeks.

“Can I ask you something?” he said, leaning in.

She looked up, meeting Scott’s startlingly blue eyes.

“Yes.”

He smiled. “Are you free tomorrow? Afternoon?”

“Um—” Jess could hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears.

“A few hours. Alone. Our secret.” He raised his eyebrows, waiting for an answer.

As though from far away, Jess heard herself answer.

“Yes.”