When Rob first saw the “save the date” card he examined it closely, as if it were his patriarchal duty to approve of what he saw. This older Bee had put on some weight, which was a good thing. In college he’d always suspected she was starving herself—often surviving on SnackWell’s cookies and low-fat yogurt—to become as small as her mother, a naturally petite woman who, according to Bee, was addicted to yoga and spinning classes. This older, more mature Bee on the “save the date” card looked content. And Matt, with his tree-trunk masculine torso and five o’clock shadow, seemed like the kind of man who could provide for someone, a stable fellow whose closet was lined with pleated khaki pants and baseball caps.

Rob usually didn’t like guys in caps, but he was happy Bee would be marrying one. He’d been so comforted by the idea of Bee in a good relationship that he’d decided to go to the wedding, despite the distance and the insufficient funds in his bank account. When the actual invitation arrived, he’d immediately checked off the “yes” box and RSVP’d. It was the first time in his life he’d remembered to RSVP for anything.

But that was where his uncharacteristic enthusiasm for someone else’s happiness had ended. Weeks went by and he hadn’t bought a plane ticket. At first, it was the cost. He went online and saw that tickets from Texas to Baltimore were about six hundred dollars and included several annoying stopovers. He’d e-mailed Hannah, “I’m waiting for a price drop. Don’t worry about it.”

Rob’s job in the library at UT paid well enough, but he’d beenliving from paycheck to paycheck since his ex-girlfriend Lucy Barber had moved out. When Lucy moved in with him, two years ago, she’d agreed to pay half the rent, which was only fair. For the first time in his life, Rob was able to pay off some of his Syracuse debt and save some money.

But Lucy only lasted six months as a live-in girlfriend. Their failure to live together successfully wasn’t a shock to either of them; even before Lucy moved in Rob knew that she was unreliable and that she abused prescription medication. But Rob was smitten with her and willing to take the risk. He’d never been the stable one in their dizzying relationship and it made him feel good about himself to keep someone else on track.

Unfortunately, he was too much like her to balance her. Within weeks of moving in, he was dipping into the never-ending supply of pills prescribed by the doctors who believed medication was the answer to her mood swings.

Lucy had left more than a year ago—and had promptly moved in with her much older ex-boyfriend—but she’d been nice enough to leave behind her twenty-four-hundred-dollar Pottery Barn couch and three Ziploc bags packed with pills, the ones she knew he liked.

He knew her departure had been for the best, but Rob still missed Lucy terribly, specifically the sex, which was easier with her than it had been with anyone else. It was simply sex, rather than a reward for making promises he couldn’t keep. There was never emotional negotiation.