If I ever find myself in a situation where I’m allowed to choose the fate of my worst enemy, spending twenty hours on a bus might be somewhere near the top of my list of punishments.

Nora abandoned me in New York and I had to get back home to Chicago somehow. I don’t blame her, obviously. The punishment matches the crime.

It gave me a chance to think. To plan what the hell I’ll do next. My life-saving, salaried position at Black Book isn’t an option anymore. I’m lucky if I still have my job at the gym after no-showing my shift yesterday. If word of this gets back to Judy, I might lose my job at Red Brick, too. There’s certainly an argument to be made for me mistreating my sub. Instant blacklist.

So, it’s back to square one. Whatever that is.

At least I still have my car.

And a few extra dollars in my pocket so I can get a cup of coffee.

The barista eyes me with suspicion. Either that or the scent of coffee beans doesn’t quite mask the stench of bus on my suit. I don’t really care, in the end.

I sit down in a booth and watch the city rush by through the window for who knows how long.

“Wow. You look like shit.”

I look up to find a man standing over me in thick, black sunglasses and a leather jacket. He slides the glasses off with his non-bandaged hand and I recognize him as Nora’s friend’s ex-husband.

“Thanks,” I mutter.

“Robbie,” he reminds me.

I nod, not really caring.

He raises his drink — a large frappe with a hot pink straw sticking out the top — and takes a long sip. He swallows it down and stares at me for another awkward moment before nodding.

“Sure, thanks. I’d love to sit down,” he says.

He lowers onto the bench across from me.

“No,” I say. “I’d like to be alone right now, if you don’t mind.”

“I do mind, actually. I mind very much.”

I exhale. “Why?”

Robbie pockets his sunglasses and sits back, easing into a more comfortable position. “You’ve stumbled into a very interesting family here, Clyde.”

“Clive,” I correct.

“Yeah, whatever,” he says, shrugging. “I really don’t care. I care about Nora and when it comes to Nora, Trix, and Melanie, Clive, you are vastly unprepared for what you’ve signed up for.”

I glance around. “Well, I don’t mean to interrupt this speech you’re clearly proud of, but Nora and I are over.”

“No, you’re not. And here’s why.” He sits up and takes a quick sip from his pink straw. “What you’re experiencing right now is a phenomenon I like to call The Gray Zone.”

I raise a brow. “The what?”

“You woke up this morning, looked around, and the bright, colorful world you went to sleep in was gone,” he says. “The grass isn’t green. The sky isn’t blue. Everything is just drab and shitty. You have a job but — screw it — you called in sick. They’ll manage without you for one damn day. You’re in need of a shower but — fuck that. Why bother? You’re hungry but — whatever — you’re gonna die eventually anyway. Why not speed it along? Are you with me so far?”

“… Yeah, sure.” I nod.

He smiles. “The Gray Zone. Guys like you and me spend a lot of time here, so we learn really quickly the various ways to inject a little color into our lives; Drugs, sex, alcohol.” He raises his coffee. “Caffeine, or as I like to call it: All of the above.” He takes another long sip from his pink straw and admires the cup. “Damn, that’s good caramel.”

“Look, Robbie, I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I’m no stranger to drab and shitty. All right? My life has had its fair share of ups and downs.”

“You misunderstand,” he says, staring at me. “The Gray Zone isn’t for people who have fucked-up shit happen to them. That’s just The Real World. No, The Gray Zone is for people like us who bring it on themselves. You’re here because you fucked up and lost the girl. There is no one to blame but yourself. Now, luckily for you, you’ve got Big Brother Robbie here to tell you exactly what to do to win her back.”

I laugh. “And what’s the catch?”

“The catch?” His face screws up. “The catch is a lifetime of bliss. Take it or leave it, buddy.”

“A lifetime of bliss?” I point at him. “I’m sorry, but aren’t you still hung up on your ex-wife who left your sorry ass?”

“Hey…” He gestures at his face and grins. “Do I look sad to you?”

I don’t answer. It’s rhetorical anyway.

He relaxes his cheeks. “But yeah. To answer the question, plainly. I am. Melanie’s a work-in-progress. Do you have a slow-cooker, Clive?” he asks.

I blink, caught off-guard. “No.”

“She’s like that,” he says. “Mel’s standing in the middle of the pot. Heat’s turned on, slowly rising, just a little at a time so she won’t notice. Every once in a while, I drop in a new ingredient, mix it up, and walk away. Eventually, she’ll be ready. In the meantime, I’ll set the table.”

“Is that what I have to do?” I ask. “Set the table?”

“For Nora?” He laughs. “Oh, hell no. She’s not a slow-cooker. Nora Payne is the head table at a five-star restaurant with no prices on the menu and a celebrity chef. She’s got a reservation for two and you better show up on-time, dressed to the nines, with an empty stomach and a can-do attitude — or not at all.”

“Sounds like more trouble than it’s worth,” I say.

Robbie tilts his head in disbelief. “If that’s how you really feel, then that’s cool. I’ll just take my wisdom elsewhere…”

He moves to stand up.

“Wait.” I sigh at his smug expression. “Sit down.”

His lips curl to one side and he lowers into the chair again. “Melanie needs to be coddled. And swooned. And surprised. But Nora…” He shakes his head. “Nora needs a challenge. She’s easily bored and more than a little paranoid. If things go too well for too long, she gets suspicious and starts to doubt. So, what you have to do is eliminate her need to doubt.”

“How do I do that?” I ask.

Robbie squints. “You show up to the damn restaurant, Clive.”

I exhale in frustration. “Can we drop the cute food metaphors, please?”

“Okay, then.” He leans forward. “Nora Payne needs someone she can depend on. Not for money, mind you. She already has more than enough means to survive but there’s a big difference between being alive and having a life.”

“I get that, but…” I pause. “She trusted me. I betrayed her.”

He smiles. “Sounds exactly like the kind of challenge she needs. If you do nothing, you’ll only prove every horrible thing she’s thought about you and you’ll become nothing but a footnote in her black book she’ll joke about with her friends at brunch. But if you do something and prove her just a little bit wrong, well…” He raises his brow. “You just have to be the guy who actually showed up.”

“If I just showed up, she wouldn’t talk to me anyway,” I argue.

“Only one way to know for sure.” He pulls his sunglasses from his jacket with his good hand. “What the hell else are you gonna do today? Other than sitting around and moping beneath a gray cloud of drabby shit?”

I stare straight ahead as he stands up, feeling the slow mix of adrenaline brewing in my gut. “Yeah, I’ll think about it,” I say.

“No.” Robbie shakes his head. “You have not been paying attention at all. Don’t think. Just go do.”

“I don’t even know where Nora is right now,” I say.

“It’s Sunday. There’s only one place she’d be.” He slides the sunglasses on and grabs his coffee. “Go do.”

This fucking guy. Slow-cookers and can-do attitudes? Clearly, he has no idea what he’s talking about. None of this will work on Nora Payne.

The Perfect Nora Payne.

I look up at the table across the coffee shop. The one we sat in during our “first date.” She told me all about Robbie and his drinking problem and how he…

Never gave up. He’s never given up on the love of his life.

“Hey, Rob.”

He pauses and turns back to me.

“Thanks,” I say. “You’re kind of a cool guy.”

He smiles. “Yeah, that’s me.”

Robbie exits the shop and zips up his jacket as he starts walking down the street, happily sucking on his hot pink straw.

If I was that much in love, I don’t think I’d give up so easily.

I told her that. Nora thinks I’m a liar now.

I’m going to prove her wrong.