“Yeah, we talked about it. And I think we’re going to give it a shot and see what happens.”

“Does that mean you stay married?”

“Who knows? Who the fuck knows anymore?”

“Jesus.”

“Wow, thanks.”

She laughs, sipping from her glass, “I don’t know, Spence. But this isn’t the kind of thing you should stress over. This is a good thing—a very, very good thing. Let it be good. Don’t try to mess it up or control it or whatever it is you do. Just let it be.”

“Thanks, McCartney.”

“Hey, at least he was the cute one.”

“I was always a Lennon kind of girl.”

“Ooooh, true. Yeah, you’re right.”

“And I’d totally let Yoko Ono ruin my band, my friendships, my hygiene, and my coherency. She’s hot, and I don’t care what anyone says.”

“Hey, girlfriend. You have a right to your opinion.”

“So how do you feel about me and Ashley?” I asked, trying my best not to pour another glass of wine.

I may or may not need to stop drinking so much.

“Only you, Spencer. Only you would get to live happily ever after with the some chick you used to masturbate to from some insane teen show.”

“How do you know I used to masturbate to Ashley Davies?”

“I didn’t…until right now…you know, when you just confirmed it.”

“Oh.”