Cue an idyllic weekend paradise huddled up in Joshua's cushy brownstone. It's a dream scenario for Hannah. He cooks her steak and lets her use his humungous shower. They have sex in the master bedroom. They play topless pingpong on his back patio, then do it on the table. They lay in bed, him reading and massaging her hair while she rests her head on his bare knees. Everything's filmed in a glossy filter, the sort of thing you'd see before the camera fades away and reveals it's all in someone's head.
But that never happens. Perhaps it goes without saying. Even by episode's end, it's hard to say if any of this really happened, or if it's all an illustrious fantasy Hannah cooked up. It has all the trimmings of a fake-out scenario: Hannah quits her job for good reason, winds up in the Restoration Hardware kitchen of a recently separated, godlike doctor. He's into her, despite her wholly unflattering floral romper and oxfords. They have sex all day, he skips work to stay in with her, she gets to wear his oversized t-shirts and eat rare meat and drink wine in the middle of the day. It's not Hannah's world, but it's the world she wants for herself.
That revelation comes on their final night together. Hannah breaks down while they lay together, letting loose every carefully withheld secret she's been swallowing all this time. "Please don't tell anyone this, but I want to be happy," she tells him. She wants a house with a fruit bowl and nice things in the fridge. She wants somebody waiting for her when she gets home. She wants a husband to cook her meals and have sex with her whenever she wants.
It isn't some wildly ludicrous notion. We all want to be secure and in love, in some variation. But up until now, Hannah has wanted a more Fiona Apple-esque exitsence: to feel everything, even if that means hurting herself in the process. She knows there's something sadistic in her, something that makes her lie about being sexually molested as a child, that makes her think she deserves physical abuse. And she's always been okay with that part of her.
But Joshua's a trigger. Suddenly she sees a world she could happily inhabit. Like she could slip into the vacant shoes of Joshua's estranged wife and pick up where she left off. But after her tearful revelation, Joshua tenses up. He's obviously uncomfortable now, and Hannah knows it, too. And even though she's still there, and he still wants her to be there, we all know it's over. She wakes up in his bed the next morning and he's gone, presumably to work. She makes herself breakfast, makes the bed, takes out his trash. Because Joshua's trash is Hannah's treasure. And while she has a lot of fumbling to do before she gets there, it's clear that this weekend – whether real or make believe – has given her something: an endgame.