Page 74 of Dear Pink

“Holy shit, this is a lot of texts.”

“Too many?”

She cringes. “Sort of.”

“Oh, god,” I groan.

“What’s the racket?” Andre asks, entering my office carrying a puppy. “No one’s at the front desk, and Mr. Hernandez came in with Pepito.”

Lolly’s ears perk up. “Go ahead,” I say, and she shuffles out from under my desk and runs to the lobby.

“I’ll go to the front,” Gloria says. “Tell Andre your runaway tale and see what he thinks about your woman situation.” She wags her blue fingernail at me before leaving.

Andre smirks. “You have awoman situation,Dr. R?”

“Ugh.” I collapse on the desk. “I don’t want to explain it.”

“Come on. You’ve been a grouch the entire day.” He hands me the puppy. “Pet this cutie and explain.”

The puppy licks my face, scrambling to my shoulders. I smile, relishing the sensation. Puppy therapy is the real deal.

“Fine,” I say loudly, resigned to the inevitable. “My new girlfriend may have dumped me. I probably set the record for the fastest end to a relationship.”

“Oh man, did she ghost you?”

“Ghost me?” Her absence definitely haunts me.

“Yeah, it’s what cowards do. They ignore your texts. It’s their way of saying, ‘We’re through . . . kaput . . . the jig’s up . . . game over . . .sayonara. . .auf Wiedersehen. . .adios. . .ciao’—you get the picture.”

I drop my head with a thud and the puppy paws at my hair, flapping a wet tongue in my ear. “Ugh,” I mumble into the desk. First Elise and now Hannah. Why can’t I read the signs?

Andre cocks his head in my direction, apparently sensing my distress, and begins to recant his previous conclusion. “Maybe I’m wrong. Show me your phone?”

He scrolls through the screen.

Hannah, are we still on for dinner tonight?

Hey, still on for tonight? Can’t wait to see you.

Dinner? Tonight? Me and you?

Tonight? We have plans, right?

Are we still on for tonight?

“You sent her five texts asking the same question?” Andre frowns.

“Yessss.” I wish I could sink into the ground.

“Not cool.”

“Which part? The texting? Or texting the same question repeatedly?” Why did I think cyberbullying was a smart idea?

“Sorry to be the bearer of crappy news, Dr. R, but if she didn’t officially ghost you, these texts sealed the deal.”

He rests the phone on my desk. Immediately Hannah’s name flashes across the screen.

Won’t make dinner tonight. Something came up.

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