"I appreciate that," she says, and means it. Because it's you, no matter what is quite nearly the definition of their friendship at this point, the thing they both try--and sometimes fail--to live up to. As he starts to apologize, Rosie turns a little, the better to look at him.

"You disappear because you're happy," she says. "Which you deserve to be, as much as anyone else. Maybe more. And with this, I didn't want to...it's partially my fault you didn't know, since I thought saying anything might spoil how happy you were, with everything with Caleb going so well and all." Rosie takes in the fog of smoke clouding the kitchen, the abandoned glass of scotch and the way they're sprawled on the kitchen floor, together in a common kind of misery. "But I won't stop you from trying to be better. Or giving advice, because goodness knows I need it sometimes."