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I’d walked Mark to the door. It was strange to be that close to him and yet feel miles away. Mark turned, the box in his arms, nodded, and headed out for the last time. No hug, not even a handshake. Just a nod, and Mark was gone. I leaned back against the closed door and shut my eyes. It was not an end but a new beginning, I’d reminded myself, trying to ignore the constriction in my chest and the welling tears in my eyes.

As I’d stood there, I’d felt a gentle nudge against my leg and looked down to see Samson purring up at me.

“At least I still have you, my sweet boy,” I’d said, scooping up the orange cat and burying my face in the long fur. “You wouldn’t leave me, would you?”

Then I’d begun to cry in earnest, the tears falling freely down my face. Letting myself slide to the floor, I cradled the cat and let it all out. I’d tried to tell myself this was for the best, but the ache in my heart refused to ease, and the tears kept falling.

I’d cried all night, getting hardly any sleep. And now I was suffering not only from a broken heart but also from a lack of rest.

Aside from a few phone calls, I managed to avoid any real human contact all morning. Just before noon, however, I heard a light rapping on my doorframe. I looked up from my work. My friend Emily stood in the doorway, eyes narrowed, her hand resting on the frame.

“Oh, hey, Em. What’s up?” I asked.

“I just came by to see if you wanted to grab some lunch.” She paused, giving me a once-over. Her scrutiny made me squirm, but I kept my smile in place. “It finally happened, didn’t it?” she asked.

My smile fell away. “Yeah, it did,” I replied. I took a deep breath, ran my hand through my hair, and leaned back in my chair. “You were right; it just wasn’t working out.” I gave her a half-smile, knowing I probably looked pathetic. I needed an excuse to leave the office for a while and didn’t want to have the conversation at work. “Let’s get out of here,” I suggested.

Twenty minutes later, we were both sitting at a restaurant down the street. I was spearing bits of salad with the tip of my fork. “I think we were both worn out by it all. All the arguing, all the periods of cold silence.” I looked down at my plate. The food wasn’t going down well; it felt like there was gravel in my stomach.

I wanted to believe it was a mutual falling-out, but I felt like a failure. Deep down, I believed Mark deserved more. But I couldn’t share those feelings with Emily. I didn’t want to admit to myself that I was a shitty boyfriend, let alone to my friend.

She set her fork down. “I’m sorry you’re in pain, but I have to be honest. I’m glad it’s over,” she said.

I sighed. “I screwed things up. I should have spent more time at home. I should have listened to him better.”

Emily fixed her brown eyes on me. “Listen to me now,” she said. “You need to hear this. He was no good for you. He was manipulative and a user.” I began to shake my head, but she raised a hand. “I know you didn’t see it, but it’s true. I know you loved him, and I’m sure he loved you—in his own way,” she continued. “But he also loved your steady job, the vacations you paid for, and the house you both lived in.”

“No, Em, it wasn’t like that,” I protested. “I gave more because I had more, and I didn’t mind. I just couldn’t make him happy. Maybe I was holding him back, or… I don’t know.”

“You’re not to blame, Julian; trust me,” she said, shaking her head and making her short curls bounce. “You’re a wonderful friend, successful attorney, ridiculously organized, and hot as hell. He’s an idiot, and you’re better off without him.”

Her words made me self-conscious. I didn’t see myself that way at all. She studied me, as if trying to assess whether she was getting through.

“He was a user,” she continued. “I’d bet he waited until he had something else lined up before walking away. Or someone else.”

I stayed silent. I didn’t want to argue with Emily, especially since I knew she was probably right.

“I’m sorry,” she said, reaching over to take my hand. “You’re a good person. You’re caring and kind. But you deserve someone who has their shit together. You shouldn’t have to make anyone happy; that’s not your job. Your job is to be yourself and be loved and cherished. You deserve someone who loves you for who you are, not for what you can do for them.”

I wasn’t sure someone better was out there for me, or that I could even find or keep someone better, but I did appreciate that my friend cared about me. I looked down at my meal, no longer hungry.

“We should go out this weekend,” Emily said, a sly smile spreading across her round face. “Yes, on Friday. We’re going out.”

“I’m not sure, Em. It’s too soon, and I don’t really feel like going out.”

“I don’t expect you to meet Mr. Right, but I do expect you to have a good time. It would be good for you to get out of the house and relax a bit.” She smiled wider. “You have all week to prepare. And for goodness’ sake, fix your hair.” She squeezed my hand. “Please?”

It was hard to say no to Emily when she smiled that way. “Alright, I’ll go. But I can’t promise I’ll have fun.”

I would go and do my best to enjoy myself, but I wasn’t interested in meeting anyone new. I wouldn’t let her push me toward some pretty face in an attempt to fix my broken heart.

As we walked back to the office, I spotted more than a few people wearing surgical masks and thought another flu might be on the rise. Maybe I wouldn’t have to go out on Friday after all. The thought brought me more relief than it should have.

I considered what Emily had said about my dating history. She was more spot-on than she realized. The people I’d dated were all some variation of Mark—beautiful and a bit of a mess. I’d never spent much time alone. The more I thought about it, the more I made up my mind. It would be good for me to try being single for a while. I wasn’t looking for a relationship. What was the point? I told myself it would be a valuable learning experience, but deep down, I was afraid I couldn’t trust my own judgment. I would screw it up again. Yeah, being alone felt like the safer choice.

Having decided, I felt better. I knew I’d be okay. The pressure was off.

I would learn to do this on my own.