It was in the middle of dinner that Eric finally got things rolling.

He cleared his throat and put down his steak knife—he always ordered filet mignon. Every time. I was eating the lobster, which wasn’t the best choice, since my hands were a little buttery. Then again, the ring would slide right on. It was also the best lobster I’d ever had, succulent and tender, and the butter, my God, I wanted to drink it.

Using great self-control, I took one more bite of the lobster, then subtly wiped my hands thoroughly on the napkin. Took a sip of water to cleanse my palate for when Eric would kiss me, his fiancée.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” he said.

Oh, goody! My heart squeezed hard, then seemed to expand to fill my entire chest. Love, baby! Love.

“Really?” I asked, keeping my voice casual. He liked to surprise me, though he rarely pulled it off.

“Yes. But...well, I’m not sure how you’ll react.”

“Hmm. Give it a shot and see,” I said, smiling. In about thirty seconds, our fellow diners would see Eric on bended knee, would hear me say yes, and maybe even Jonathan would be happy for us. Maybe he’d even smile, though his face would probably crack.

“Okay,” Eric said, taking a deep breath.

Then...nothing. He just sat there, not smiling, not frowning, just looking at me.

Reach into your pocket, I mentally urged him, smiling a little harder. Still nothing. “What is it, babe?” I asked. My smile was feeling a little forced. Was he trying to remember a speech? He did love a speech.

“Um...okay.” He sat up a little straighter. My left ring finger raised itself in anticipation. He looked me in the eye, face serious, and said, “I’d like you to move out.”

Though my ears heard the words, it took a little longer for my brain to process them.

Was there a proposal in there somewhere? my brain asked.

No, I don’t think there was, I answered.

What was the question again?

I’m not completely sure.

“Excuse me?” I asked. I was still smiling. My ring finger was still waiting.

“This is hard for me,” he said. “But it’s time. I’ll always cherish our years together.”

“What?”

“It’s just that Nathan’s death...it was so profound, you know? It was a message.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Hang on one second.” My thoughts were just a gray blur. “Um...Nathan’s death? What has that got to do with us? I mean, besides the obvious.”

“It was a message. To me. A very profound moment.”

“No, it wasn’t! He tripped and hit his head and died. That is not profound. That’s an accident, Eric. The opposite of profound.”

What the heck were we even talking about? Had he said something about me moving out? It looked like he had surprised me after all. But I—We—My brain was stuttering in shock. Jonathan was looking at me. I took a bite of lobster and chewed, smiling at my boss. Nothing to see. We’re all good.

Eric cleared his throat. “Babe. Look. I’ve been thinking. There’s a reason we haven’t gotten married, right? That says something.”

I swallowed the wad of lobster meat, nearly choking on it. “Yes, there’s a reason, and no, it doesn’t! The reason is, you’ve never proposed! Not officially, anyway.” My voice was shrill, and people were starting to look. Let them.

“I know,” Eric said. “We talked about it, but we never did follow through.” He gave me a steady look. “That tells the whole story, don’t you think?”

“No! I absolutely do not!” Where’s the ring? my brain asked. We would really like to see that ring. “We live together. We bought a house together. We take vacations with your parents!”

“We did. That’s true.”

We did? What was this past tense thing? “Eric...you can’t be breaking up with me...” My voice cracked in disbelief.

He gave a sort of crooked nod/shrug, like he regretted that, yes, he was.

“What about the ring?” I asked. “You bought me an engagement ring.”

He twitched. “How did you know?”

“Because I know everything.” Yes. Pull the Angry Mother. Eric was a nice Jewish boy. Angry Mother Voice scared him. “Eric David Fisher, you bought me a one-and-a-half-carat engagement ring from Tiffany’s because you want to marry me! Not break up with me!” People were now openly enjoying our drama (minus Jonathan, who was eating again), but I didn’t care.

“Ains, look. You’re right. I did want to marry you. There I was at the party, about to propose, you’re right. And then the universe literally stops me by killing a guy.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Eric! He tripped! It was completely random!”

“Well, I think it was more than random. It was the universe saying life is short, life is uncertain, live life large.”

“I am going to stab you with this fork if you don’t knock it off.”

“Ainsley. Honey. I’m so grateful for everything. I really am. It’s been an amazing run. But I’m putting the house on the market. I quit my job today, and I’m going to Alaska.”

“Alaska! Are you drunk? You’re not moving to Alaska!”

“I am.”

“Does your mother know?” Judy would lie prostrate in front of his car if he tried to move to New Jersey, let alone Alaska.

“Not yet. But you need to move out.”

“I am not moving out! Are you kidding? Is this a joke?”

“I’m so sorry. I really, truly regret hurting you.” He looked at me steadily, kindly.

There was...something...in his expression. In his voice, too. Sincerity, my brain said.

Shut up, I told it. “You can’t break up with me,” I ground out. “I nursed you through cancer, Eric.” I raised my voice so the onlookers could hear. “I nursed you. Through cancer. Remember?”

“I do. And I will always be grateful.”

My hands were shaking, wanting to throttle him. I took a deep breath. Glanced around at my fellow diners, who were rapt, save for Jonathan. Thank you for not caring about anything, Captain Flatline. For once, it was in the plus column.

I chugged my wine and refilled the glass.

“How is dinner tonight?” the waiter asked, smiling.

“It’s great! Fantastic. Best I ever had,” I said. I took another defiant bite of lobster “My boyfriend is just about to propose.”

“No, I’m not,” Eric said. “We’re breaking up.”

“Oh! Uh...I’ll let you decide, then.” The server backed away.

Eric pushed back from the table as if to leave.

“No, no, no,” I said, wiping my mouth. “We’re still talking. You stay right here.” He closed his eyes briefly but obeyed.

Okay. Eric always shut down when I was mad, so I wouldn’t be mad. I’d be logical.

“Eric,” I said in a calmer voice, “honey, I know you really liked Nathan. And I know—believe me, I know—how terrifying this past year and a half has been. It’s natural to reexamine your life.”

“Thank you for understanding,” he said.

“No, no, not yet,” I said. “Look. I understand you want to, uh, live life large. But you don’t dump the person who’s been with you, by your side, for eleven years, who adores you and wants to have your children, who helped fight your battle with cancer—” yes, yes, bring up his favorite subject “—who cleaned up your puke and gave you sponge baths.”