And Just Like That… Season 3, Episode 11: The Epilogue Drops Shocking Twists That Will Change Everything—Here’s What You Missed!

New York is strutting back onto the scene with a fierce swagger—just like that, the city and its beloved characters from And Just Like That are hitting the streets again in season three. But I have to ask: after all the drama, heartbreak, and fashion choices that made us sometimes scream at our TVs (and maybe even reconsider our remote’s durability), are we really ready to say goodbye to Carrie Bradshaw once more? There’s something almost poetic about Carrie’s journey—her wrestling with loneliness, her tug-of-war with the past, and that big question hanging over her newly single life: when does solitude stop being a tragedy and start being freedom? As the series races toward its grand finale, it’s clear this isn’t just a goodbye to a character; it’s a reflection on change, resilience, and maybe even accepting that the ending we hope for isn’t always the ending we get. So, brace yourselves, because New York—and Carrie’s world—are about to change again, and you’re going to want to see every step of this final dance. LEARN MORE

New York is so back, baby. And Just Like That’s third season is in full swing, and Harper’s Bazaar will be recapping new episodes every Thursday. Read ahead to find out what happened this week, or click here to read last week’s recap.

Well, folks, this is it. After spending nearly the entirety of three seasons yelling at our screens, it’s now time to face the music and say goodbye to Carrie Bradshaw. Again.

I’ll be the first one to admit that I will miss Carrie and company—no matter how many times they made me want to throw my remote at my TV or hide my face behind a pillow. In fact, that experience is kind of the whole point of watching the Sex and the City revival series. Showrunner Michael Patrick King confirmed the sad news last week in a statement shared to social media. “We decided to end the popular series this year with a two-part finale and extended the original series order from 10 episodes to 12,” he said. “SJP and I held off announcing the news until now because we didn’t want the word ‘final’ to overshadow the fun of watching the season.”

And just like that, Episode 11, “Forgot About the Boy,” is the beginning of And Just Like That’s end. The penultimate episode brings us out of the muggy heat of August and straight into crisp cool fall—specifically, the week preceding Thanksgiving. It’s a season about change, something that Carrie is finally acclimating herself to after severing her connection to Aidan and, consequently, her past. Still, she can’t resist walking down memory lane—and I mean that literally. Carrie ventures uptown to order Thanksgiving pies at a beloved Upper East Side bakery, just a few blocks away from her former residence. There, she bumps into Lisette, whose friendship with Carrie never fails to baffle me. Lisette is on her way to some function that apparently requires people to dress in a hot-pink leather jumpsuit and a metallic gold fur jacket (Is this supposed to remind us of Carrie’s eclectic Sex and the City style? Because I’m not buying it.), so the two don’t have much time to catch up. Luckily, Lisette’s planning on throwing a casual “get-together” the Monday before Thanksgiving and Carrie is now invited.

Carrie’s return to the Upper East Side is about much more than just series finale sentimentality. To her, the iconic studio apartment continues to represent the possibilities and freedoms of her former life, a safe cocoon from the unknown terrain of her future. It’s also a great distraction from the notes she received from her publisher, who calls Carrie’s historical fiction attempt “fluid” and “moving” yet in need of an ending that doesn’t come across as a “romantic tragedy.” As Carrie narrated in the last episode, the novel ends with The Woman sitting alone in her garden after the death of her former lover. “How is a woman alone in a garden a tragedy?” Carrie asks, more for herself than for The Woman. If the thought of a fictional woman being single offends her editor, then how does the rest of the world feel about her own blatant single-ness? Carrie does not want to feel like some pathetic victim to misogynistic standards, but, more than anything, she doesn’t want to feel like her only value is intrinsically attached to a man. Knowing that this is the final season of And Just Like That, I couldn’t help but wonder if the meta commentary also served as a preemptive defense against fans who had maybe hoped to see Carrie with her definitive endgame (Mr. Big notwithstanding) at last.

The publisher’s editorial notes also come at a particularly sensitive time for Carrie, who finds living in the gigantic house she was supposed to cohabitate with Aidan and above the now empty basement unit that Duncan officially vacated especially lonely. Maybe that’s why she decides to attend Lisette’s pre-Thanksgiving shindig, in spite of some trepidations that the visit might make her feel remorseful for giving up her old place at all. That fear dissolves as soon as Carrie opens the front door. Rather than stepping into the apartment’s wide entryway, she comes face-to-face with a half-painted wall. Apparently, Lisette had installed a flex wall in order to divide the studio into two much smaller studios so that she could share the space with a roommate. “I hate living alone,” Lisette explains, a confession that reflects some of Carrie’s own internal conflict about the Gramercy house. Still, the changes to the Upper East Side studio are enough to jolt Carrie out of the dream. She can never go home again, she realizes, so she might as well make the most out of her present. Accepting that also helps Carrie accept that maybe her novel could take a few revisions after all. She returns home, opens her laptop, and begins writing an epilogue.

For the rest of the And Just Like That gang, things are going more or less okay, but I am worried about what the pacing of this episode means for the rest of the season’s unfinished subplots. Where did Michael B. Handsome/Marion go? Does Lisa still have a crush on him? What was the point of making Charlotte sick with vertigo? How will Giuseppe marry Anthony without his mother’s approval? And why the hell is Rock in a musical?

Losing the promise of a fourth season means that we will regretfully never get to see Miranda in action as a grandmother—a ride that I, personally, was very excited to join her on. Brady, for his part, seems to be in denial about the whole fatherhood thing. He blows up on Miranda during her date night with Joy after he finds out that she had invited Mia to Thanksgiving dinner behind his back. Sure, it’s never great when moms overstep their boundaries, but surely there’s no need to cause a scene over that. Is he really incapable of just making small talk with the future mother of his child over turkey and mashed potatoes?

Charlotte spends a lot of this episode juggling between Harry, who is desperate to not do Thanksgiving at Miranda’s place, and Rock, who plays the lead in her high school production of Thoroughly Modern Millie. We get a musical sequence that feels a tad too long, and a few longing looks from Charlotte, who sees Rock’s costume get-up as a glimpse of a future they’ll never have. I don’t know if it was narratively necessary to have Charlotte mourn her nonbinary child’s nonexistent “womanhood” in this episode—especially since these feelings were never alluded to at all this season—but nevertheless that sentiment is there.

Seema and Lisa are having experiences on opposite ends of the relationship spectrum. Seema is still relishing in the heady honeymoon stage with Adam. The two have officially said their first “I love you”’s to each other, and Adam wants Seema to spend a tofurky Thanksgiving with him and his vegan/gluten-free sister. You know she loves him because she actually agrees to go. While Seema goes to great lengths for new love, Lisa struggles to find equilibrium in an older, matured love. Herbert, still licking his wounds after his electoral loss, is adamantly refusing to work in his office, lest he feel humiliated under the judgmental stares of his coworkers. Lisa attempts to comfort him, but he rejects her kindness. You can sense in her confused facial expressions that she’s unused to this level of cold hostility in her husband. I’d say that Herbert should be careful with how far he pushes Lisa because he just might push her into Marion’s arms, but with only one (one!?!?) episode left in this entire series, that’s probably not going to be the case after all.