When Che Diaz stands as your sole conscience in a room, you're well aware that matters have reached a desperate juncture. Truthfully, having the most enigmatic character in the entire series serve as the one to remind Miranda of her reprehensible behavior is a testament to just how astray her path has deviated. Miranda's storyline has been a tangled web from its inception, much of which stems from the disconnect between the Miranda of "And Just Like That…" and the one we knew from "Sex and the City." Carrie has repeatedly expressed bewilderment at recognizing her friend anymore, and it feels long overdue for these companions to engage in a heart-to-heart about this transformation.
It's commendable that Miranda is undergoing a sexual renaissance, feeling vibrant and liberated, finally grasping her true self. All these developments are positive! Yet, she's pursuing them at the expense of numerous others, even her supposed beloved! This seems to escape her entirety. Admittedly, most characters in this show are preoccupied with themselves, but Miranda's self-absorption has escalated to unprecedented heights. Her rationale for confessing to Steve about her infidelity and seeking a divorce is equally narcissistic: it's not driven by morality or guilt but by her desperate need for Che to remain by her side.
Upon discovering that Miranda hasn't disclosed their affair to her husband, that their relationship is clandestine rather than an open partnership (it seems peculiar that Che wouldn't have clarified this before continuing, but let's move on), Che wants no part of her deceitful world. They refuse to be liars, liars or saboteurs. Miranda appears genuinely astonished that anyone could feel such revulsion. Has she been living under a rock all this while, or…? And it's this very fear of losing Che forever that finally prompts Miranda to confront her husband with honesty.
Miranda's friends seem to have accepted her willful nature, doing whatever she pleases (Samantha's absence is particularly keenly felt in this dinner scene where Miranda announces her intention to divorce Steve—Samantha would have had plenty of input!). Nonetheless, Carrie, at least, suggests that perhaps Miranda should ascertain Che's commitment before upending her life. Oblivious to such advice, Miranda boldly shows up at Che's workplace (!!) to seek reassurance. They could almost draw cartoon heart eyes around her—she's completely smitten. Miranda receives the answer she yearned for: Che professes their love too. So infatuated is Miranda with Che that she barely registers Che's clarification that their relationship will never adhere to traditional norms. In her excitement, Miranda dismisses such conventional constraints, thinking only of their shared affection. I suspect her enthusiasm for a non-traditional union might wane if it entails sharing Che with others (perhaps another detail Che should clarify, but Che will be Che). This thought doesn't even cross Miranda's mind; she's so lost in love. With Che's affirmation of mutual feelings, Miranda marches off to jettison her, er, burden, Steve.
This conversation pierces the heart, as Miranda strides in with a callous nonchalance, assuming the impending discussion will barely ripple the surface because surely, Steve must grasp that their marriage is but a shell, and she yearns to escape. She fails to fathom that his sentiments might diverge wildly from her own. Alas, they do. Miranda confesses to Steve that their marital status quo falls short of her desires. She ought to utter these words to him, indeed! It's just that she ought to have imparted them long before entangling herself with another. Whether they could have mended their fences or not remains speculative, for it transpires that Steve finds solace in the very stability she scorns. Amidst years marred by turbulence, he cherishes their steadfast union. He clarifies that he has repeatedly battled to keep their bond alive when Miranda faltered, and now, he is spent. If this is her earnest wish—for he desires her happiness, ultimately—then so be it; he will no longer wage war for them. Could someone lend this gentle soul a compassionate embrace? Poor Steve!
While Steve's heart shatters into a million pieces, Miranda feels nothing but a wave of relief (couldn't she muster a morsel of empathy towards the man she shared a life with?). She dials Carrie to break the news and informs her friend that she's en route to the airport in a cab, bound for Cleveland to surprise Che at their show. She intends to declare their love sans reservations. She fancys herself in a romantic comedy scenario, she exclaims! (What would the 'Sex and the City' Miranda think of this?) A hunch whispers that the quintessential rom-com finale might not await Miranda in Ohio, but only the hands of time will reveal the truth!
Meanwhile, on the posh Upper East Side, Charlotte continues her intimate encounter with Harry. Admittedly, this was the storyline I eagerly anticipated when the 'Sex and the City' reboot materialized. Lily bursts in on Charlotte, mere moments shy of giving Harry oral pleasure, prompting Charlotte to slam the door in her daughter's face. She conjures a tale about inspecting Harry's penis for cancer, instantaneously regretting it. She had harbored plans to normalize conversations about sex with her offspring, but when the moment arose, Charlotte's instinct was to take the exact opposite route. Carrie and Miranda are astounded, primarily by Charlotte's persistence in fellating her husband—Carrie's "Is he terminally ill or something?" stands out as a genuine gem. However, once the initial shock wears off (what conversations have these women been indulging in for the past decade and a half?), Carrie reminds Charlotte that there's still time for an honest dialogue.
The conversation unfolded in a manner far from Charlotte's meticulously laid plans. She had invited Lily out for lunch, intending to delicately broach a sensitive topic. However, before she could even initiate the discussion, a starting revelation came to light: her fifteen-year-old daughter was posting provocative photos in revealing attire on a secret Instagram account. Charlotte, desperate for an explanation, confronted Lily, but as is typical with teenagers, the situation swiftly escalated, culminating in Lily storming off to Aunt Carrie's place, where she had been assisting in cataloging Carrie's wardrobe ahead of its relocation to storage.
It was a heartening sight to witness the enduring bond between Carrie and Charlotte, a friendship often overshadowed by Charlotte's role as more of an inconvenience than a cherished companion of decades. Carrie, ever the calming influence, attempted to reason with Charlotte, reminding her that Lily was a fundamentally good child simply navigating the complexities of identity. Her soothing words prevented Charlotte from spiraling out of control, a much-needed intervention, albeit one that left me yearning for someone to sit Lily down and impart the wisdom of the internet's enduring legacy. I acknowledge that Lily had disclosed her finsta was limited to a close-knit circle of friends, yet my concerns lingered. In the eyes of her trendy, younger neighbor, I feared I embodied the very 'ma'am' that Carrie dreaded being perceived as.
The irony of this saga lies in the fact that, while Charlotte was justified in wanting to discuss those photos with her daughter and understandably emotional about Lily's burgeoning adulthood, her fears of Lily's innocence being compromised proved unfounded. Lily still clung to the innocent belief that her mother was merely conducting a penis cancer check in the bathroom. The notion of her father receiving oral pleasure sans morning coffee hadn't even crossed her naive mind.
