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“So how’ve you been, you know, with everything?” Roxie asks.

“Surprisingly okay, to be honest. My main concern is that my savings have taken a hit. I really need a job.”

“It will work out, probably sooner than you think. The Qpik thing might still work out.”

“I don’t think you’d want me that close. I could bug you every day.”

“That would be just awful. Whatever will I do?” She leans back, the back of her hand on her forehead, pretending to faint. “Yes, having lunch every day with a good friend who smells nice instead of sitting in my cubicle among a bunch of dudes with borderline acceptable hygiene would be absolute torture.”

I laugh. “Jake always said I was too clingy.”

“Jake the ex-fiancé?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmm,” she says with a frown, and takes another sip. “Look, I’m not a relationship expert. And apparently some people need a lot of space and some people not so much. Different attachment styles and whatnot. And these two types tend to get together and annoy and chase each other forever. But from what I know about you, I don’t think you’re clingy. You seem like a well-adjusted person. I don’t think it’s a bad thing to want to hang out with your boyfriend.”

“It blows my mind that I don’t miss him,” I say. “Like, at all. Actually, whenever I think about him, I remember all these little details where he let me know he wasn’t particularly invested.”

“Like what?”

“He was never really mean, but it was always implied that he was the catch and that he could do better.”

Roxie’s eyes widen as she drops her legs from the armrest and sits upright in the chair. “What the fuck? Why would he think that?”

I shrug. “That’s how our dynamics always was.”

“Let me see him,” she says. “Do you have a picture?”

It takes a while since I don’t have my old phone on me, but I log into my account on the cloud from my new cell and find a picture from a couple of years ago. It’s one of Jake and me together at his parents’ house, holding our drinks and smiling at the camera, his arm around my shoulders and mine on the small of his back.

This picture was taken by someone at the party, and when his mom forwarded it to us a few days afterwards, he looked at it and said it was okay, that everyone puts on weight over the holidays and that I could lose it later.

I’d felt so pretty that whole evening—and hadn’t actually put on any weight—but that feeling disappeared immediately and I went on a yet another diet. I starved myself till Valentine’s Day, lost 10 pounds, and really looked forward to showing off a new dress I’d bought when we went to the restaurant, but he neither noticed nor commented on my looks and made sure to tell the waiter we didn’t need any bread for the table.

Roxie inspects the picture. “He’s a good-looking guy, but he’s not better looking than you. You actually make a pretty nice couple.”

Jake has dirty blond hair. At about six feet, he’s only an inch taller than me, enough that he used to discourage me from wearing heels when I was out with him. He’s also quite thin and always watches what he eats, tracks calories and micronutrients and takes pride in his appearance. I’ve always felt gargantuan around him.

“Everything seems so unreal now,” I say. “Like the whole relationship happened to someone else. I can’t bring him to my mind in any real way, you know? Like how it felt to be with him. And I can’t seem to recall the good times, just how often he made me feel unworthy. Why was I with him? Why was he with me?”

Roxie’s face twists. “I don’t understand why he would think he’s better than you. And why you think he’s better than you. Was he rich or something? More educated? Or is it just the looks thing, because I’m telling you, that’s not real.”

“I don’t know. We met junior year, when I just transferred from a two-year college to the four-year one. I wasn’t completely inexperienced with guys, but I was totally clueless about college culture and I didn’t know anyone since I’d just transferred. We were in the same class, so we studied together and got lunch and coffee, and then he invited me to a party and then he kissed me and that was it. We’d been together since. We even worked for the same firm, you know. He was in marketing and sales.”

Roxie nods but doesn’t say anything. Now that I started talking, I can’t seem to stop, and she understands I really need her to listen.

“He was nice and attentive at first,” I continue. “But it took me longer to graduate than him because I attended part-time and had to work, and I also worked for my dad. Jake didn’t like that I never had any money. I think he disliked that my folks weren’t educated. My whole background grated on him.”

“But he stayed with you,” Roxie says, looking thoughtful. “Do you think he loved you?”

“I think he did. He said he did. But I always felt like I was supposed to be grateful that he’d plucked me from the rubble, you know? Not that it was at the forefront of my mind at that time, it’s more that now that I have time on my hands and can think about this stuff, it’s become clear in hindsight. I think he loved me but also didn’t. Like he was fond of me but his fondness was rooted in there being a power imbalance, and he had to be on top.”

I close my eyes and feel my pulse racing. I wasn’t even aware of half of what I said until I did. How foolish could I have been?

Roxie reaches out and squeezes my shoulder. “Hey. That really sucks.”

I bury my face in my hands, my cheeks hot with mortification. “Ugh. I don’t want to think about Jake.”