And Just Like That… Season 3, Episode 9: The Shocking twist that’s got EVERYONE talking – Did we just witness a deja vu disaster?

New York is back in the spotlight, and not just because the city never really left—it’s the stage for the latest drama unfolding in And Just Like That’s third season. Now, you gotta ask yourself: can a relationship really end over untouched iced tea and a semantic showdown? Sounds like a plot twist sharper than a barbell drop, right? This week’s episode, “Present Tense,” clocks in under 30 minutes, but don’t let the short runtime fool ya—it hits with the subtle chaos of a fight breaking out mid-brunch at Tartine. Carrie and Aidan’s rollercoaster ride crashes again, leaving us wondering if trust is the heavyweight no one here is ready to wrestle with. While the rest of the gang deals with their own messy battles, we’re reminded that in New York, the city might never sleep, but love? Love’s a whole different beast. Ready to dive into the grit and glam of it all? 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.

So … that’s how we’re ending that? Nine episodes into the third season of And Just Like That and Carrie and Aidan’s relationship ends over some untouched iced tea and a conversation about semantics?

Clocking in under 30 minutes long, “Present Tense” is the shortest episode of the season. No need to drag this out any longer, I suppose. The breakup felt rushed and disorienting—in the same way, I guess, that real-life breakups often feel. One moment you’re having phone sex thousands of miles apart and the next you’re screaming at each other in the middle of brunch at Tartine.

The beginning of the end finally came when Aidan sat down to talk with Duncan. The sight ambushed Carrie, who explicitly forbade Aidan from socializing with Duncan, but the graver offense was how Aidan treated him. It was a dick-off, of sorts. Aidan seems to think he can get away with saying anything if he hides it behind his genteel country boy charm, but Duncan’s no idiot. He can sense when he’s being hazed. Through this conversation, we learn something new about the English biographer: he is divorced and he has no kids. These facts irk Aidan, in the way a lot of child-saddled parents are offended by the existence of childless adults. But, I think Aidan is less concerned with Duncan’s obligation to reproduce than he is with how easily Duncan’s lifestyle assimilates into Carrie’s. He can’t say the same for himself.

Of course, it takes two to tango—and two to push this rotting relationship past the point of no return. Should Aidan have gone out of his way to meet Duncan despite Carrie’s opposition? Probably not. But should Carrie also not act so weird about Aidan meeting their downstairs neighbor/her work-from-home buddy? Obviously yes. She’s self-aware enough to admit to Seema that she knows she is the problem—or, more specifically, her past sins are. But rather than sitting down and having an honest conversation about the past—about what it means to restore trust with a partner you cheated on—she somehow comes to the conclusion that Aidan’s jealous tantrums are just “a blip.” For all of the dating and relationship experience she has under her belt, Carrie is still afraid of facing hard conversations head on. It’s a terrible mindset to have because, as anyone in a long-term relationship knows, the hard conversations will come whether you want them to or not.

Carrie finally reaches her boiling point when, later that night, Aidan interrupts her writing session with Duncan. In his defense, he knocks on Duncan’s door with a fairly innocuous question: when are you coming home so I can start cooking dinner? But, while Aidan might be talking about steaks, Carrie and the rest of us can read between the lines. I can recognize Aidan’s desperation for assurance, thinly veiled under a veneer that pretends to be anything but. He longs to feel connected with Carrie, but he, too, is dancing the same dance she is, tiptoeing around the words that really need to be said. Instead of letting her in on the fears he has about their relationship, he pushes her to give him a time that she expects to be back up. She can’t.

When Carrie eventually comes home, the smell of Duncan’s pipe smoke lingers in her hair, repelling Aidan. He lashes out at her, and she retaliates by spending the rest of the night in the guest bedroom. By the time the morning rolls around, both parties are still aggravated. Carrie takes some time apart by going on a walk—in the shoe section of a luxury department store, of course—and they eventually meet back up at their favorite restaurant. Aidan enters the conversation peacefully and, for a moment, it looks like hope for a reconciliation is not yet lost. “You’re right,” he says. “I do have trust issues with you around other men.” It’s vulnerable enough of a statement that, if it was another couple, might have led to an open and genuine conversation about rebuilding a relationship after a betrayal. But, since we’re talking about Carrie and Aidan, Carrie takes his statement as fighting words. Had or have, she wants to know. Does Aidan have trust issues, or did he mean to say that he had trust issues? Carrie erupts on the spot, verbally flagellating him for being suspicious and jealous despite everything she’s done for him since they got back together. “I was 100 percent in,” she says. Now, it’s Aidan’s turn to nitpick at her choice of words. Is she 100 percent committed to him, or was she once? Carrie confirms the worst: she was.

As if right on cue, Taylor Swift’s breakup ballad “How Did It End?” begins playing. A better choice might have been Swift’s Folklore track, “Exile,” which contains the lines: “I think I’ve seen this film before / and I didn’t like the ending.” In other words, did Carrie and Aidan really just break up in the exact same way that they broke up in Sex and the City? I mean, we all knew Aidan wouldn’t last, but I had hoped that their ending this time around wouldn’t just recycle the same plot points we already saw in the original series. These two deserve that much, at least.

With a shorter run time, we had very little focus on the rest of Carrie’s gang. There isn’t much to update on, anyway. Charlotte has joined Harry in bed rest thanks to her recurring vertigo spells. Herbert is still treating Lisa like a soundboard for all his petty self-image issues. Miranda confesses that she’s an alcoholic to Joy. And Seema decides to test out Adam’s crystal deodorant right before a big client meeting for the Patel Group (spoiler alert: she regrets the decision instantly!).

Anthony had the winning subplot of this episode, thanks in large part to the reappearance of Patti LuPone’s delightful performance as Gia, Giuseppe’s mother. He invites Gia over for dinner in an attempt to woo her, but it has the opposite effect. She’s unimpressed with his rent-controlled apartment and finds his homemade risotto to be severely under seasoned. Eventually, Anthony decides to ask her outright what, exactly, is her problem with him. It’s pretty simple, really. Gia’s husband was 30 years older than her, and while they had a passionate love affair, she spent what should’ve been the prime years of her life acting as a nurse to a senior citizen. She doesn’t want Giuseppe to end up with the same fate. When that doesn’t convince Anthony to leave her son alone, she finally drops the fake Italian accent and brings her inner New Yorker back out. “Let’s cut the shit, shall we?” she says. “How much for you to get the fuck out of Giuseppe’s life? Name a price.” Sadly for Gia, Anthony can’t be bought. She loses her shit briefly, then recomposes herself long enough to inform Giuseppe that, if he continues his relationship with Anthony, then she will no longer be funding his bohemian New York City lifestyle. She exits with an operatic flourish and one last insult (“This hallway smells!”). To Patti LuPone, I only have one thing to say: brava!