Remember how you always used to say we had to be closer? You don’t say that anymore.

“Listen,” she said. “I have to ask you something.” “Shoot,” said Mr. Big. “You know at the beginning of the summer? When we’d been seeing each other for two months and then you said you wanted to date other people?” “Yeah?” Mr. Big said cautiously. “And then you dated that model for a week? And when I ran into you, you were horrible and I screamed at you and we had that big fight in front of Bowery Bar?” “I was afraid you were never going to talk to me again.” “I just want to know,” Carrie said. “If you were me, what would you have done?” “I guess I never would have talked to you again.” “Is that what you wanted?” Carrie asked. “Did you want me to go away?” “No,” Mr. Big said. “I wanted you to stick around. I was confused.” “But you would have left.” “I didn’t want you to go. It was like, I don’t know. It was a test,” he said. “A test?” “To see if you really liked me. Enough to stick around.” “But you really hurt me,” Carrie said. “How could you hurt me like that? I can never forget that—you know?” “I know, baby. I’m sorry,” he said.