I have to start today’s And Just Like That recap by celebrating the fact that, at the very least, one couple — and one male character — from the franchise hasn’t been destroyed for the sake of one of the heroines moving on or reinventing herself. Yes, Harry has cancer, but he’s optimistic — and the funeral I feared so much when those leaked images surfaced wasn’t his. Phew!

In contrast, Carrie and Aidan are going downhill fast. I’ve discussed before how we misunderstood Aidan, just like we wrongly rooted for Mr. Big. But the criticisms of Carrie are just as old and just as valid.

We’ve jumped two months ahead since her disastrous countryside trip, and Aidan calls with excitement: his troubled son is supposed to be traveling for a week, which means he can finally spend time with his girlfriend. But instead of using the key Carrie gave him, he decides to throw pebbles at her window. The predictable result? He breaks the glass. And instead of accepting his apologies and offers to fix things, Carrie insists that once something’s broken, there’s no going back. Yes — a not-so-subtle and poorly executed metaphor for the two of them.

Aidan, who teeters between tragic and ridiculous — pooping his pants in one episode and making idiotic decisions in the next — now appears at a funeral with short, ripped pants. He breaks down: the whole Wyatt trip went terribly, the unstable teen (off his meds because dad says no) backed out, was forced to go, and now Aidan feels like crap. Okay, we sympathize, but he is nowhere near emotionally stable enough to ask for — or offer — support to Carrie. Wyatt won’t ease up for the next five years, and Aidan knows deep down there’s likely no light at the end of the tunnel. Not with anyone.

The episode moves through miscommunications until the end, when Aidan — clearly suspicious of how often Carrie mentions her neighbor Duncan and noticing how she’s taken to walking barefoot at home for his sake — decides to pull a Carrie move from Sex and the City and confesses: he slept with his ex-wife, Kathy. A major déjà vu moment for anyone who knows their long, messy history. Carrie is surprised, but at 60, she’s far more mature than she ever was in six seasons of the original series. She sincerely tells Aidan what he could never hear back then: it’s okay. She understands that there will always be a bond between him and the mother of his children — and that sex can happen without being premeditated. Aidan feels even more foolish. And rightly so.

Then comes the long-awaited clarification that fans have screamed about for years: Aidan did want Carrie to wait for him — without any promises, without sleeping with anyone else, and without being open to a new relationship. That’s right: Aidan never just wanted to be with Carrie. He wanted to own her. And as next week’s promo reveals: Aidan’s out, Duncan’s in.

There’s something we tend to complain about, but that makes sense in this new phase of And Just Like That: after 60, life becomes about losses. Parents pass. Friends, exes, spouses, colleagues — they all start to go. We complained about Carrie’s prolonged grief after Big’s death, but honestly, it was consistent with her story. With COVID, it would have been reasonable to write off more characters, but instead, they chose to exile Samantha to London and turn Stanford into a Tibetan monk. Fine.

Now it’s Harry and Charlotte’s turn to face a different kind of grief: the loss of health. Charlotte is doubly distressed, forced to keep Harry’s cancer a secret — and when she runs into Carrie unexpectedly at the pharmacy, she breaks down. There are more tears to come, and I truly fear for the only kind people left in this franchise. I hope they’re spared.

Miranda — unbearable as always — has finally found a decent girlfriend and introduced her to her son. Better yet, she’s secured an apartment (thanks to Seema). Hopefully, she stays in the background, because her bumbling life has worn thin.

That leaves Seema and Lisa. Lisa, now involved with her editor, has just lost her father. She’s guilt-ridden for having turned off her phone and missing the chance for a final conversation — and on top of that, had to deal with his grieving girlfriend. Meanwhile, Seema, now broke, had to return to using the subway and taxis. That breaks my heart, because she’s the best addition the franchise has seen. I want to see her happy, successful, and loved.

In the end, the episode proves that And Just Like That still knows where to strike — even when it stumbles over its own clichés. By allowing Carrie to finally see Aidan for who he really is, the show closes a cycle that began decades ago. And by confronting its characters with loss, illness, and restarts, it reminds us that growing older isn’t about happy endings — it’s about moving forward. Sometimes more alone, sometimes a bit wiser, almost always with scars. What comes next? We don’t know yet. But as always, we’re going with them. And rooting for Seema.