When we finish looking at the apartments and are sitting in Cas's car, he goes, "I'm never moving out, I guess."

     I laugh. "You'll find the right place. And you'll know when you do."

     "Is that how it was for you?" he asks.

     "Not really," I tell him honestly. "I liked a lot of things about the house, but I also did a lot of renovations on it."

     "Yourself?" he asks, and I nod. "Of course you did."

     "But I own my place," I say. "So the renovations I did were an investment for when I sell. Renting an apartment — you don't have to think that hard about it. You just need to know what are the things you definitely want and definitely don't. Proximity to your job is something to consider. You've got this new car, so ideally a parking garage with anti-theft measures in place. You're young, so you want to think about the kind of crowd the apartment caters to."

     "Okay, so you're like weirdly good at this. Can you text me a list of all these things? I'm gonna need to make an excel sheet, I think."

     "How many apartments have you seen already?" I ask.

     "Five," he responds. "The well is certainly running dry. Especially if I'm trying to stay in Aurora."

     I hesitate before asking, "Are you trying to stay in Aurora?"

     "I mean, ideally yeah. I don't think when I get off of work at one a.m, I'm gonna be too pleased with my decision to live in Piscataway."

     I scrunch my nose. "Is Piscataway a town you're looking at apartments in? I hate it there."

     He laughs. "No, I just threw out any name. Alright, on a more serious note, are you hungry? Cause I'm starved and I'm jonesing for some Chipotle. And before you even say anything about salmonella or cholera or whatever, bite your tongue. Food is meant to be enjoyed not labored over intensively about the health benefits."

     I fight back a smile, nod my head brusquely instead. "Let's go get food poisoned at Chipotle, then."

     "Guts of steal, my man," he says lightly as he backs out of the parking space, distracted as he watches the back-up cam on his dash. "Chipotle ain't got nothing on this digestive system."

     Guts of steal. Some things just do not change.

     Chipotle turns out to be the move. They've introduced some new lifestyle bowls so I end up with the Paleo, which Cas gawks at before rolling his eyes. "You would," he says as we take a seat outside on the patio. It's a nice day for November. Not too cold, and in the sun it's even nicer.

     Meals have become a comfortable silence type of ordeal. Cas has a burrito the size of his head and tucks into it without ceremony. He's sprawled out in his chair, legs crossing over his area under the table into mine, so that his knee is settled against my thigh.

     We're just about finished when Ms. Vivvie walks by on the sidewalk below the patio and Cas sees her, brightening, as he sits up and calls to her. I stiffen on instinct, and I don't know what that instinct is, exactly.

     "Ms. Vivvie," Cas says and waves. She stops and looks up at the two of us before she smiles.

     "Oh, hello there, Calvin. I heard you were back in town. Our new doctor, I hear?" she responds. "Hello Dresden." Her voice changes a note, like we're sharing a secret.

     "Ms. Vivvie," I say with a nod.

     "So I've tried the peach juice and it is absolutely fantastic. Can I bulk order? I've also heard great things about the grapefruit."

     She glances between the two of us, her expression amused. "Well, I'm all sold out from today's flea market. But Dresden, here, did manage to snag a few jugs. Maybe he'll share."

     She winks at us before she says her goodbyes and scuttles away. Cas turns back to his burrito virtually unfazed by the whole thing. I think about what Dolores had said, about the town being small and people talking. Were people going to just assume Cas and I are back together? And what happens when they find out we aren't? What happens when Cas remembers he hates me?

     Monday is Veteran's Day.

     Private Weston's is closed the way it always is and I go to pick up Jack early that morning. He comes out of the house with Dunkin Donuts coffee in hand and a box of munchkins. "For the road," he says like he always say. In the past few years, we've developed a ritual about this.

     It takes us nearly three hours to drive up to New York. Weston grew up in a small town called Wilford. It's where he was buried and where his parents still live.

     "So," Jack says. "Life updates. Hit me with it."

     "Life updates," I repeat back. "Hit me with it."

     Jack laughs, shaking his head. "There's literally nothing interesting going on in my life. Especially in comparison to you. No star-crossed lovers returning for me."

     "How are my godchildren?" I ask. "I hope they're presenting with more Jasmine traits."

    "We've had a string of great days with Atlas. Makes me think the terrible two's are not so terrible after all? But that also may just be wishful thinking. And Theo is so sassy. I didn't know such a tiny human could produce that level of sass. I am now curious than ever as to what Jasmine was like at that age. She says she was an angel but I'm not apt to believe that."

     "Huh, all we need is Atlas to pull through with the attitude and you'll be outnumbered in that house," I respond lightly.

     "I'm already outnumbered. Jasmine says since she carried them, she gets their votes. So basically my life is ruled by Jasmine."

     "Are we surprised by that?"

     "Do you know how Jas likes her pizza?"

     Laughing, I say, "Anchovies."

     "With anchovies," Jack goes. "Anchovies. Absolutely disgusting. But she gets three votes so we get a whole pie with anchovies that she eats two slices of."

     "But she also has great taste in beer," I point out.

     "That she does," Jack agrees.

     "And she's put you on like six different tv shows. You're obsessed with Grey's because of her."

     "That is true, too," he responds quietly like he doesn't want to admit it.

     "And—."

     "Okay, okay, I get it. She's the love of my life, anchovies and all." Jack and I are both laughing until he quiets, then goes, "So what about the love of your life?"

     "The love of my life?" I say purposely vague. My phone vibrates in the cupholder and Jack reaches for it for me. He's designated texter. It's probably Amelia confirming Thanksgiving details.

     "Ah, speak of the devil. The love of your life," Jack says waving my phone beside my head.

    "What's it say?"

     "Doctor Sumner says Weston's is closed today? Would you like me to ignore it?"

     "No, you can respond. Just say yes, we close for Veterans Day every year."

     "You got it, boss." Jack types away and then drops my phone in the cup holder. "What's going on with you two? I see you're back on speaking terms. You don't care that he hooked up with someone else?"

     I shrug my shoulders. "I mean, I care on a base level. You know there's always going to be jealousy there. I'm not annoyed about the whole thing, anymore, though. We're not dating and we're not exclusive. So he can do what he wants."

    "But in the mean time you're fucking him, too?" I nod and Jack goes, "And that works for you?"

     "That works for me," I agree.

     "Even though you want more," he says.

    "Even though I want more," I say.

     Cas responds and Jack reads the message aloud, again. "Oh, that makes sense. Do you do anything today or just take the day off from working?"

     "You can tell him we go to Weston's grave and pay our respects."

     "Really?" Jack responds but he types it out for me.

     "Weston isn't a secret," I say. "I told him everything."

     "Oh, really," Jack says this time with more emphasis. "When did that happen?"

     "The snow storm. He got stuck at my place."

     "Huh. Okay. So he came over and got stuck at your place and you decided to tell him about Weston?"

     "Among other things. We talked about a lot of things. Why I left, for one thing."

     "And he took it well?" Jack asks.

     "I mean, we're still on speaking terms. Actually. He came over Sunday and I went to look at an apartment with him."

     "You guys are dating then?"

     I shake my head. "I don't know what we're doing, but it's not dating. At least I don't think it is."

    "It sounds like dating," Jack responds. "But you know how you can find out?"

     "How?" I ask.

     "By asking."

     "Wow, you're like the wisest person. Why don't I come to you for all the advice?"

     "Right," Jack says laughing. "You should just fire Ashley and hire me." He fixes his gaze on me and I'm thankful I'm driving and can't look. It feels like a heavy one. "But seriously. Just ask. Make it official and then we can all be one big happy family again."

      "Dolores doesn't want me seeing Cas. She thinks I'm bad for him. That I'll just end up running or pushing him away, again."

     "Will you?" Jack asks seriously.

     "No," I say sure of the answer. "I want to be here. I want to be here with him."

     "You should tell him that," Jack says.

     How I want to ask but don't. This is something I need to figure out on my own.