“That seems right,” he said, ignoring my question as he scribbled something on his clipboard, beside my name. He then directed me to the van that was going to the community center, where the Alcoholics Anonymous and Al-Anon meetings took place. Greg was already buckled up in the back row, and I was glad for it. He was the only person I’d spoken to so far, which made me feel disproportionately close to him. On the way to the meeting, I learned that he was a surgeon at one of South Carolina’s top hospitals. He was married to Vivian but sleeping with his intern, Jill. “The thing is,” I heard him saying in the row behind me, “I love Vivian, but she treats me like shit.”

“Could it be because you’re fucking someone else?” I asked without turning around.

As the van pulled up to the community center, I realized that I had goose bumps and was frantically tapping my foot. Half of us spilled out of the van and into the center, which was one big sparse room containing a gray folding table surrounded by ten folding metal chairs. A coffeemaker with a brown-streaked carafe and powdered creamer sat on an aluminum-rimmed table in the corner. When we arrived, it was mostly women, only a few men, including Greg. Once we were all seated, a woman with an authentic beehive hairdo opened the meeting, introducing herself as Bonnie. “Hi, Bonnie,” everyone echoed.

•

“I’m Anna,” Anna said, though I already knew her name, we’d been in treatment together for a month by then, learning why food and fullness weren’t our enemies. When I confessed to the group that I had developed feelings for the center’s nutritionist, after an all-night G-chat correspondence precipitated by her filling in the second half of a Shins lyric that I’d posted as my status, Anna approached me. “It was brave of you to admit that to everyone,” she said. She had wolf-blue eyes and golden retriever warmth. She then handed me a scrap of paper. “Here’s my number, if you ever want to talk.”

I felt seen, in that moment. I also felt curious. I called her that weekend. “Want to meet for coffee?”

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