Meredith sighs, as if our friendship is the most emotionally exhausting part of her day. “Do yourself a favor, Ellie. Go out to a bar or swipe right on some Tinder himbo. Meet someone new. Strike up a conversation. You need emotional intimacy, and you’re not going to find it on your futon.”

“I don’t know… I really feel like me and my left hand have reached a new level of connection.” On that note, I hang up on Meredith and step out of the bathroom. And step directly into Andrew Kim-Prescott’s chest.

“I was coming to check on you,” he explains, staring down from about three inches above me. Then he adds: “And I did not hear that last part of your phone call through the door.”

It’s almost poetic that this day would end with Andrew Kim-Prescott overhearing me discuss my masturbation habits.

“Everything all right?” Andrew asks slowly, still staring down at me with concern twisted into his inky eyebrows. He has an embarrassment of eyelashes, and he’s putting those to good use at the moment, too. The whole tableau is one of smoldering concern.

Usually, I would be into it, but I don’t need pity about my financial woes from a man wearing a Gucci belt. “I’m fine. Thanks.”

It’s six o’clock, which means my shift is over, and I can finally go cry in the privacy of my own shithole. Before I can make my escape, though, Ari comes around the counter. “Ellie, I’m so sorry about Greg. I didn’t know your financial situation was that bad. You can totally move in with me if you get evicted. We have an extra bedroom in my house. Well, an extra closet, really, but you could definitely fit a twin bed in there!”

“Thanks, Ari,” I say. “I appreciate the attempt to help, but if it’s okay with you, I’m just going to clock out, go home, and cry into whatever freezer-burned dessert I can find.”

Ari raises a single eyebrow. “I thought you said you had plans tonight.”

“Yes,” I say. “Plans to cry.”

I go into the back to grab my coat, and when I return, Andrew is still there, studying me like I’m a fascinating new exhibit at the Oregon Zoo. A poor person in her natural habitat.

“It’s raining,” Andrew says, pointing out the obvious. The half-assed snow has long since turned to full-assed rain. “Do you want a ride home?”

“Oh.” I zip up my coat and shoot Ari a look. Three guesses who told Andrew I don’t have a car. “That’s not necessary. I only live about twenty blocks from here, and I can take the bus.”