Ezra shrugged. “I’m not sure that the Son of Satan would really understand how normal people do relationships, though.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Are you on his side now?”

“What?” Ezra’s eyebrows shot up. “Uh, after watching you fall apart and then try to piece yourself back together for almost a week, that douche nozzle is never getting my seal of approval again! But, if you’re saying he’s done it out of some sense of wanting to protect you, then maybe it’s better you don’t know all the details? I mean, think of it this way, if you had a boyfriend, who was … I dunno, in the mafia or something, and there was some shit going down, and you might be in danger if he didn’t ghost you, you could sort of understand the motivation there, yeah? Doesn’t make him any less of a dick, or a bad choice for a boyfriend.”

“But he wasn’t a mafia boyfriend,” I muttered.

Ezra let out a whopping guffaw. “No, he’s not! He’s just the Crown Prince of Hell, and he put a piece of your soul into that bloody coin that you haven’t touched since you dropped it on the kitchen bench! I kind of think that’s worse than the mafia, don’t you?”

I swallowed, forcing the lump back down out of my throat. “Hey, you were the one who was all, ‘Oooh, you’re in love with him, you need to tell him, this could be your happy ever after!’”

Ezra’s cheeks pinked, but he stared me down. “Well, that was before he turned into a smirking limp dick right in front of my eyes. Sorry, bestie, but that cancels out all the rest. Even if he was faking the limp dickness out of some sort of chivalrous protective urge. He doesn’t deserve you, because if he did, he wouldn’t abandon ship the second things got a little hairy.”

“When you put it like that …”

“I do put it like that!” Ezra stood, smoothing his Bluey scrubs. “Now, I need to get to work, and you have three girls who will probably want to help you take your heartbreak out on the canvas, just like you ask them to.”

He pulled me to my feet. “Come on, we’ll carpool.”

I sniffed. “But how will you get home? I can’t sleep at the hospital waiting for your shift to finish!”

He shrugged. “I’ll Uber. Come on, Jem. Come and bitch to your little tweenyboppers about how men suck.”

“Except the gay best friend kind. They’re always awesome.” I wrapped an arm around his waist and snuggled in.

“Naw, don’t you make me cry. I might not wear mascara, but with my complexion, my eyes will be red and swollen for a month!”