When We're Thirty by Casey Dembowski (beautiful books to read .TXT) 📕

was Riley’s baby—she’d literally moved across the country to start it five years ago when the editorial board decided they wanted an East Coast addition. And while her husband had continued to write for big-name music magazines, Riley had stayed the course. That didn’t mean she expected anyone else to stay with her. But this was New York City—half the jobs were being covered by interns or freelancers, and the other half had thousands of applicants. It didn’t help that Hannah was either vastly overqualified for many of the positions or lacking several years’ experience despite her editor title.

Just as Riley had avoided saying that line for two years, Hannah had circumvented the reality of her situation. She couldn’t stay. Open enrollment season was only a few months away. Thanks to her thirtieth birthday, the dirt-cheap plan she had would disappear, leaving more substantial plans with higher premiums. She could afford one if she sold her car.

“I should go check and make sure Henry didn’t try and slip that feature into the layout again,” Hannah said, turning on her heels. The weight of Riley’s stare followed her out of the small office.

Hannah returned to her desk, flipping open her email out of habit. There were three new messages but nothing that required any mental space. Damn. A ridiculous intern email was exactly what she needed right now. Hell, she’d even take Dave’s brutal edits on her article. Hannah swiped at her face, found it thankfully dry, and turned her gaze to the fading daylight.

HANNAH STARED DOWN at the bustling streets of Greenwich Village. She still sat at her desk, feet up and a piece of leftover cake in her hands, despite the workday closing. The streets, crowded at nearly any time of day, were filling with streams of nine-to-fivers ending their days and NYU students heading to local bars or the Public Theater. Life in New York City never stopped; it barely even paused. Days like today, she relished the chatter and the reminder that she’d chosen New York City and it had chosen her back. She blinked back a few lingering tears, watching a group of twenty-somethings clamor down the street, laughing and roughhousing. They wore no campus gear, but she saw them three times a week at this time. Sometimes she imagined they were law students fresh out of their torts class, their faith not yet marred by competition. Other times, they were writers just out of a workshop at the Lillian Vernon Writers House. She envied their made-up lives. NYU had been the dream, but a full-ride scholarship far outside New York trumped any hopes she had of her parents footing the larger bill.

Hannah stared at the white carnations from Will—Will, who wanted to marry her. Seriously, he was insane. They hadn’t spoken in years. Not to mention, what did they know about getting married? Hannah hadn’t been in a functional relationship since her post-grad days. She pushed herself back into a seated position, adjusting until her knee didn’t feel like death. Brian was right—she needed to do something about her knee, though she didn’t see how that was possible.

She picked a carnation out of the vase, running her fingers over the petals. She was certain Will had health insurance. He was a lawyer, according to his LinkedIn account—and a good one based on the size of the ring. And he would get something out of being married, too, right? Nothing about his online profiles gave her any clues. It didn’t matter. They weren’t actually getting married. She placed the flower back in its vase, smiling. He had remembered her favorite flower after all those years.

HANNAH ROLLED OVER for the fifth time, pulling the comforter tighter around her. She hated Brian’s bed, with all its lumps and caverns and no Binx to keep her feet warm.

“Seriously, babe,” Brian said, pushing himself up on his elbow, “I love you, but I’m about to kick you out of bed. What’s going on?”

She squeezed her eyes shut and buried her head in her pillow. Too little sleep had Hannah on edge, her brain unable to decompress and let go of all the possibilities. It didn’t help that, aside from a curt “Yes, no thanks to you” when Hannah asked if she was alive, Kate refused to answer her phone. Hannah had been desperate to tell her about the pact. She’d even shown up at Peace Love Yoga with a latte and the latest edition of Talented as penance, but Kate hadn’t been at her normal Friday-evening class. Running to clear her head was completely out of the question. Even on her best days, it was hard. And with the never-ending rain, her knee hurt like hell. And what an idiotic idea spending the night with Brian had been, as if seeing him would have made everything make sense. Instead, she felt like she’d been lying to him all night.

“Kate is ignoring me,” Hannah said. At least it was the truth—or part of the truth.

Brian made a face but didn’t say anything.

“Why the face?”

“No, it’s nothing. Sorry. I didn’t know you and Kate fought... ever.”

Why did that comment not surprise her? “Of course we fight. Have you met Kate?”

“Yeah, but enough to make you toss and turn?”

“It’ll blow over,” Hannah said with a shrug. “She called me to save her from a date, and I didn’t come through.”

“Good.”

“Good?” Hannah asked, curling her knees up as much as her right one would allow.

“Yes, I hate that you and Kate do that. It’s unfair to the guy. You think they don’t know it’s staged? How hard is it to spend a few hours with someone you don’t like?” His expression lightened. “I’m doing it right now.”

“Hardy har har,” she said, slapping at him half-heartedly. She stretched her knee back out with a sigh. After two rainy days in a row and at least one more predicted, her knee was going be locked up for a week.

“Have you thought about