It Starts with Us by Colleen Hoover

because I’m not sure how that would have turned out, but… you hid him in
the closet. You just shoved him in here like an old coat.”
Her rehashing the moment isn’t helping me recover from it. I move toward
the front of the store with Allysa on my heels. “I had no choice. Atlas is the
one guy on this earth Ryle would never approve of me dating.”
“I hate to break it to you, but there’s only one guy on this earth Ryle
would approve of you dating, and that’s Ryle.”
I don’t respond to that because I’m terrified that she’s right.
“Wait,” Allysa says. “Are you and Atlas dating?”
“No.”
“But you just said he’s the one guy Ryle would never approve of you
dating.”
“I said that because if Ryle had seen him here, that’s what he would have
assumed.”
Allysa folds her arms over the counter and looks crestfallen. “I’m feeling
very left out right now. There’s a huge gap you need to fill in.”
“Gap? What do you mean?” I try to look busy by pulling a vase toward me
and moving some of the flowers around. Allysa takes the vase from me.
“He brought you lunch. Why did he bring you lunch if the two of you
aren’t actively talking? And if you’re actively talking, why didn’t you tell me
about it?”
I pull the vase back from her. “We ran into each other yesterday. It was
nothing. I haven’t even spoken to him since before Emmy was born.”
Allysa grabs the vase again. “I run into old friends every day. They don’t
bring me lunch.” She slides the vase back to me. We’re using it like a conch
shell, as if we need it for permission to speak.
“Your friends probably aren’t chefs. That’s what chefs do: They cook
people lunch.” I slide the vase back to her, but she says nothing. She’s
concentrating so hard, it’s like she’s attempting to read my mind to get past
all the lies she thinks I’m spewing. I pull the vase back from her. “It’s
honestly nothing. Yet. You’ll be the first to know if anything changes.”
She looks momentarily satisfied by that response, but there’s a flicker of
something in her face before she looks away. I can’t tell if it’s concern or
sadness. I don’t ask her, because I know this is hard for her. I imagine the
idea of any man bringing me lunch who isn’t Ryle probably makes her a little
sad.