Page 14 of The Breakup Broker

“Sadder? Tired?” I closed my eyes, but his face was still there. “God, I actually picked up his ring from the floor. Who does that? Who picks up their ex’s engagement ring for someone else?”

“Someone who’s built a career out of giving others the closure she never got.” Maddy’s words hit hard. She’d been the one to say the hard truths we needed to hear.

“You know what the worst part is?” My voice cracked, barely above a whisper. “He looked relieved. He didn’t seem surprised when I told him his girlfriend wanted to break up. Just … relieved.”

“Like he’d been looking for a way out?” Ivy’s thumb traced circles on my hand like she’d done during thunderstorms when we were kids.

“Like someone had unlocked his cage, and he was free to fly.” I leaned my head against the wall, the pressure of it all settling over me. “It’s not that he didn’t want to marry her. It’s that he can’t seem to love anyone. Not her. Not me. I spent so much time wondering if I ever meant anything to him, and I think I have my answer. He’s not capable of loving anyone.”

“Hey.” Maddy’s voice adopted that calm she used when we started spiraling. “You don’t know what’s going on in his life. Remember what we promised after that night?”

“No more writing other people’s stories for them.” Ivy and I echoed the familiar mantra.

“Exactly.” Maddy squeezed my shoulder. “So, stop trying to write his.”

A knock on the door made us all jump. “Everything okay in there. You’ve been in there for over an hour?” the Paper Crane’s owner called out. “Do I need to call someone?”

“We’re good, Mrs. Clark!” Ivy called back. “Just a minor crisis of the heart.”

“Ah.” The understanding in her voice spoke volumes. “Take your time. I’ll put on some tea.”

“I’m fine, no time for tea.” I smoothed my blazer again, a nervous tell I thought I’d eliminated years ago. “I have two more clients today. I can do this.”

“Like hell you are.” Maddy’s voice sharpened. “You sent us a 911 text.”

“You can’t seriously be thinking about going back out there,” Ivy added. “Not after?—”

“I needed to make sure.” My voice cracked on the words. “That you’d still...”

“Hey.” Ivy’s arms wrapped around me. “We’re not going anywhere. Ever.”

“Not like him.” Maddy joined our huddle, her chin resting on my shoulder. “You’re stuck with us, Sav.”

I breathed in their familiar scents, finding reassurance in their presence. “Cork & Crown after my last client?”

“Obviously. Who says we have to limit our wine nights to Wednesdays anyway?” Ivy squeezed my hand. “Some emergencies require throwing out the rule book.”

I nodded. “Five o’clock?”

“We’ll be there.” Maddy opened the bathroom door. “Try not to break anyone too badly before then.”

But as I walked out of The Paper Crane, my heels striking the pavement in a steady rhythm, all I could thinkabout was how Henry’s hands had shaken when he’d reached for his coffee cup—the relief in his eyes when I’d delivered Caroline’s goodbye.

Le Pain Quotidienwas wedged between a vintage record store and an artisanal cheese shop, every inch of it calculated to appeal to tech entrepreneurs who thought five-dollar croissants made them cosmopolitan. Usually, I appreciated its predictability—the rustic wooden tables, the overpriced lattes, the constant hum of laptops and self-importance.

Today, everything was off-kilter. I claimed my usual corner table, but instead of feeling like command central, it seemed exposed. Vulnerable. The curated playlist that normally faded into background noise seemed to mock me with its endless parade of love songs.

My mark arrived right on schedule—a startup CEO fresh from his latest round of venture capital funding. His Patagonia vest and perfectly trimmed stubble screamed Silicon Valley wannabe. Normally, I’d be cataloging his tells, planning my approach. Instead, I could only think about how Henry’s coffee cup rattled against its saucer.

“Jennifer?” He extended his hand. “Thanks for meeting with me. I’ve got some exciting projections to show you.”

It’s the same opening line. The same practiced smile. How many times had I done this? How often had I sat across from someone who thought they were heading for a business meeting, only to deliver someone else’s goodbye?

I forced my voice steady. “When your girlfriend asked me to meet with you?—”

“Tabitha reached out to you?” His face lit up. “That’sgreat! We’ve been talking about expanding her wellness brand into?—”

“She feels that your relationship has run its course.” The words sat heavy on my tongue, bitter and sharp like unripe fruit. How many courses had life run? How many times had someone else decided your path for you?

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