I was stroking the downy head of our perfect infant and planning its future when I realized my ex-girlfriend Aly was standing at the base of the steps. Her cheeks were white and her shiny brown ponytail trembled; one thin hand clutched at the lapels of her navy suit jacket while the other drew her NPR tote bag across her body like a shield. Irritation flared within me. Aly had always been so dramatic.

“What are you—?” she began, looking around wildly as if searching for help. Her dark eyes landed on the new mother across the street, and she opened her mouth as if she was going to call out but then seemed to think better of it. She looked back at me, tightening her grip on her bag. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Nice to see you, too, Aly,” I said, standing up. “It’s been a while. Six months, right? Since you unceremoniously dumped me over text message?”

She took a step backward, and something inside me clenched. For a split second, I envisioned grabbing that ponytail in my fist and using it to smash her plain face into the concrete. That would really give her something to be frightened of.

I held up my hands to show her my palms. “Relax, I’m just here to talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” she said, taking another step away from me.

“That’s not true,” I said, fury swirling hot in my gut as I remembered the cold message Aly had sent to dismiss me. I no longer see a future for us. Please don’t call again. I’d ignored her edict and called, and then I continued calling, my anger growing in intensity each time I heard her voice mail. And then I’d found myself on these same steps one night, waiting for her to come home, my fists like spring-loaded rocks at my sides.

I swallowed hard, forced my hands to unclench. “Aly, I just want to know what I did wrong. I don’t want to make the same mistake again.”

“Again?” she repeated, her eyes narrowing. “Are you dating someone?”

“Don’t look at me like that,” I snapped. God, how could I have forgotten how suspicious Aly was about everything?

“I’m not—”

“You were. You were looking at me like I could never have a relationship. I know that’s what your friend Leigh thinks, but she’s wrong. You’re wrong. You’re all wrong.”

She tightened her mouth into an almost invisible line. “Don’t take another step.”

I looked down, surprised to find that I was now standing only an arm’s length from her. “Aly, I—”

“You need to leave.”

“Aly,” I started, softening my voice.

“I’m going to take a walk around the block. When I come back, you can’t be here.” She stared at me so intensely her eyes bugged slightly. “Do you understand?”

Do you understand? Like I was some sort of simpleton, incapable of comprehending basic language. The men from the Overexposed forums had been right about Aly: she was nothing but an uptight bitch. She would never be happy, and I deserved much better than her.