Joy Maybe it’s weird that on the evening after my mom’s funeral, I’m in front of my computer typing an email to my pen pal. Okay, so I’m a grown woman with a pen pal. We got assigned to each other when we were in the third grade and his family was living overseas and my class had an arrangement with the American School. All of my friends wrote one or two letters, but Sabastian and I never stopped. Eventually, the handwritten notes became emails and text messages. Even though we’ve never met in person, we’re connected in a way no one else seems to understand. Aiden I’ve spent my entire adult life comparing every woman I date to one I’ve never met in person. Joy is kind, smart, funny, and full of life. When she emailed to tell me her mother passed away, I regret that she waited until after the funeral to share that information. We’ve been writing long enough for me to know how devastated she is. Able to take my work anywhere, I pack up and drive from New Jersey to North Carolina. Seeing her for the first time as she stocks shelves at her bookstore, I can hardly breathe. Coming here may be the biggest mistake of my life or the smartest thing I’ve ever done.