The UPS guy. The lady who comes to help stuff envelopes. The kid delivering flyers for the sandwich place down the street. Every time the front door of her office building opened, Meg’s whole body tensed in anticipation, and every time she was disappointed.

She felt stupid, actually, for hoping so hard, and then got angry at herself for feeling stupid. It’s not stupid to expect to get flowers at work when he told you he was going to send you flowers at work, she reminded herself over and over. But she felt stupid anyway.

Every week, Meg’s therapist listened to her talk about him, and usually stayed silent. This week, she suggested Meg pick up a book called Mr. Unavailable. Meg laughed, and nodded, and said she would, but she had never bought He’s Just Not That Into You either, and so here she was again, craning her neck to listen for the door, hoping for those goddamn flowers to show up.

They never would. She really did know that.