When it’s clear I’m not getting any further information out of her unless I switch into interrogation mode, I smile and lean down to kiss the side of her head. “Okay, honey. I’m going to eat and watch some TV. I’ll be in the living room if you want to hang out.” She probably won’t, but I always extend the offer, just in case.

Half a pizza later, I settle on the couch ready for a good movie. I grab the remote and am about to turn on the TV when my phone rings.

“Lee! Hey.”

“Hi! How’s the new office treating you?”

“It’s perfect. Thank you again for setting me up. I couldn’t have wished for anything better.” Ogre neighbor excluded, my brain adds. “What’s going on with you? How was your weekend?”

A long, happy sigh comes through the line.

“Garrett proposed last night,” Leslie says, and my stomach drops.

“Wow, that’s amazing,” I say, trying to infuse enthusiasm in my tone. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for Leslie—but, lately, everyone around me is dropping off the single list right and left. In my twenties, it was okay to be on my own. I had as many unattached friends as I wanted. But now that I’m approaching thirty-five, that is no longer the case. I can count the people I know who aren’t married or engaged on the fingers of one hand. Leslie is the perfect example: we met four years ago at a Pilates class, both single, and now she’s engaged.

After years of practice, I’m trained on all the questions I should ask next, so I fire them all at once. “Were you expecting it? How did Garrett ask? Send me a picture of the ring.”

“Wait a second.” Scuffling noises replace Leslie’s voice, no doubt as she lowers the phone to forward me the perfect ring shot she must’ve already sent to all the people she called with the happy announcement.

A second later, my phone chimes with an incoming text. I stare, mesmerized, at a close up of Leslie’s hand with the Manhattan skyline in the background. On her ring finger shines a majestic pear cut diamond—over one carat, of the purest quality—that must’ve cost Garrett a small fortune.

For someone who gave up dating a long time ago, I’m becoming quite the expert on engagement rings.

“It’s beautiful,” I say. No need to infuse fake admiration in my voice—it’s gorgeous. “How did he ask?”