I stood there the entire time, listening in quiet horror as I realized what Mary was saying. I saw the puzzle pieces click into place for Jessica, and I saw the anger that blazed to life in her eyes—anger that I had never seen before from her.

I wanted to say something. I automatically made to say a joke, to reaffirm that I was in fact medically licensed, thank you, but that immediately and obviously backfired. Now, I had no idea what to say.

Jessica looked like she was going to break down in tears. It was like when her parents had shown up at the restaurant, only ten times worse.

Mary looked small and shrunken, the opposite of the Mary that I knew, and her fiancé—now husband—looked like he didn’t know whether he should chastise Mary, defend her, or put an end to this entire affair and send everyone home. Everyone was staring as well, and I remembered how Jessica had told me that she wasn’t a party person, that she liked to just be on the outskirts and people watch.

This must be hell for her, I realized.

So when Jessica turned and ran for the door, I didn’t stop her. I didn’t call out. I couldn’t prolong this scene, not when she was so clearly desperate to get out and away before she completely broke down. I couldn’t make her stay, and if I tried, I had a feeling she would hate me even more than she already did.

She paused, just once, in the doorway, and looked back at me. I’m not a particularly romantic guy, but I’ve seen some romantic comedies in my time, and there’s usually a moment where one of the protagonists, usually the woman, will look across a crowded room or street at the man, and there’ll be this ‘I’m about to cry but I can’t’ look of heartbreak on her face.

Those actresses, I realized then, didn’t know shit about what a broken heart looked like.

The look on Jessica’s face wasn’t forlorn, or struggling to be brave, or brimming with unshed tears. It was devastation. Complete and utter devastation. It was like someone had smashed their fist into a piece of china, scattering the pieces everywhere, crushing what had once been beautiful into nothing but sharp edges and dust.

She looked destroyed.

Then, she was gone.

* * *

I would like to say that I didn’t mope, that I took action immediately like the heroes in films, but I didn’t.

I totally moped.

I took down my website and canceled all my future client meetings. I couldn’t go through with it, not with Jessica’s words ringing in my ears. I’d manipulated her. I’d dated her under false pretenses, lying to her the entire time about who I was. I had met her parents and charmed the pants off of them, and the entire time I had been lying about it.

On the third day, I realized that I couldn’t be Dr. O anymore. I put in some applications for local hospitals as an OB/GYN, citing personal family issues as the reason I hadn’t been operating in the years since I’d graduated from medical school. Since my father had died of cancer and I’d gone into this business to pay off my student loans, it was sort of true.

And what was one more lie at this point, especially to people I didn’t care all that much about, compared to all of the lies I’d told Jessica?

I got some positive responses on my applications, but by the time a week had gone by, I had to admit that I was moping.

So, I broke down and I called Jane.

Jessica had given me Jane’s number as a joke, back when she had bet me about getting Lanie to finally realize Jane’s feelings for her. “That way,” Jessica had said, “You can call Jane and get to know her better beforehand so you can really know what you’re talking about when you talk with Lanie.”

It had been a joke, and I don’t think Jessica had seriously expected me to play matchmaker and call Jane, but here I was, with the one phone number that could help me get Jessica back.

I could have called Mary, of course, but first of all, she was on her honeymoon, and second of all, I had no idea where things stood with her and Jessica. I didn’t want to accidentally kick a hornet’s nest. Again.

The phone rang a few times before Jane picked up.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Jane? This is Asher. I’m a…friend…of Jessica’s.”

There was a very, very long pause. Then,

“I know who you are.”

“You, uh, heard about me, huh?”

“Yup.”

That one word said it all.

“Listen, I know that I fucked up. Big time. But I need to find some way to make it up to Jessica and I don’t know what to do. Please, can you help me?”

There was another long pause. Finally,

“Do you love her?”

“What?”

“Personally, I think that you should apologize to her no matter what, but if you’re not in love with her, then I would just recommend a card. Mail it. But if you are in love with her—”

“I am.”

I didn’t realize it until the words were out of my mouth, but it was true. Why else would I want to charm her parents, to hold her close while dancing? Why else would I go to a wedding where I knew the bride might sell me out, even if I hadn’t anticipated the fiasco that had unfolded? Why else would I keep staying with her, and sleeping with her, even when it had become clear that I had failed and that I couldn’t give her the pleasure that she deserved, that I knew she wanted even if she wouldn’t admit it?

I loved her. I was in love with Jessica.

There was a chuckle from Jane.

“Well, you’re lucky it’s me and that I know a thing or two about being in love with someone who’s angry with you.”

“Jessica told me about Lanie,” I said, before I could stop myself.

“Fantastic,” Jane muttered. “Let’s have the entire world witness my humiliation, shall we?” In a louder voice, she added, “Okay, so, if you want to win her back, you have to prove that you are listening to what she’s saying and being honest with her. You have to prove that you’re in this for her, not for the money or for the notch on the bedpost or for anything else. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” I said immediately.

“And you have to promise her that you’ll never lie to her or do anything like that again.”

“Done and done,” I promised.

“Good. So, find a way to prove all of that to her. Have fun.”

Before I could ask how on earth I was supposed to prove all of that, Jane had hung up on me.