Page 163 of How To Not Need You

“No, you don't,” Liv says.

“No, you don't,” Tilly says at exactly the same time. I stop with my hand on the door. They look at each other. Tilly starts giggling. Liv grins. Traitors. I get in anyway.

Tilly immediately starts talking about whether Popcorn could learn to say unicorn. Liv tells her he probably could, but Wren might murder all of us if we teach him anything else. Tilly starts listing words she thinks would be useful.

Most of them are concerning. I start the engine. “Seatbelt, Bug.”

“Doing it.”

Liv reaches over and steals my sunglasses from the console. Those apparently belong to her now too. I don't bother asking for them back.

“Home?” I ask.

Liv looks at me.

“Home.”

Yeah.

I like the sound of that.

Epilougue

Liv

Opening a business is stupid.

I’ve told Natalie this maybe seventeen times.

Admittedly, this opinion is slightly undermined by the fact that two of my best friends own a bookstore, another is a self-employed author, and I make my own living as a freelance graphic designer.

But my point stands.

The hours are stupid. The paperwork is stupid. Spending an alarming amount of money on industrial ovens so you can then wake up at an hour usually reserved for airport departures and poor decisions is particularly stupid.

And yet, here we are.

Whisk & Wonder officially opens today.

By the time Jake, Tilly and I turn onto Main Street, Natalie is standing outside the bakery with the key in her hand, staring at the front door.

She looks like she might throw up.

“Is she okay?” Tilly asks.

“Probably not.”

Jake glances at me. “That’s helpful.”

“I’m here for emotional support, not lies.”

Natalie spots us. Or, more accurately, she spots Tilly, because the small person beside me immediately lets go of my hand and takes off down the footpath.

“NATALIE!”

“Oh, Jesus.” Jake moves.

“Tilly, don't tackle her.”