Whoops.

The restaurant had gone silent, and the anniversary couple sat frozen, the man with a forkful of cheesecake halfway to his mouth.

Naomi lifted an eyebrow and went back to her prison rations.

Kevin asked for the check. He didn’t speak to her in the car, even when she tried to make light of the night. When they got home, he went into their bedroom and closed the door. A second later, she heard his voice as he talked on the phone. “Hey, Naomi. It’s me.”

* * *

WHEN KEVIN HAD lost a hundred pounds, he asked to speak with Emmaline.

“I think we should break up,” he said calmly. “My life is taking a different direction, and I need to focus on that.” He didn’t meet her eyes.

“We’re getting married in two months,” she whispered.

Nothing she said made a difference. She tried not to cry and failed. Tried not to beg and failed there, too.

“You don’t support me,” he said, the accusation dripping like melted butter.

“I do support you,” she said. “You know I do.”

“No, you don’t. You keep talking about the old me.”

“I miss the old you! You were happier, Kevin! I’m not talking about being fat. You were funnier and happier and enjoyed everything more. Now all you do is go to the gym and count calories. That’s no life!”

“Naomi says—”

“Please! Not another one of Naomi’s famous quotes. Not when you’re breaking up with me!” She started to sob. “Kevin, I’ve loved you since I was thirteen.”

“You don’t know me.”

“How can you say that?”

“Em, you’ll never understand. I’m finally someone I like. I’m sorry you don’t, but Jesus! Don’t tell me to go back.”

“Can’t you be healthy and still be sweet, Kevin? Because you were the nicest, best person I ever—”

“Yeah. I had to be, so people wouldn’t hate me.”

“No one hated you, Kevin. No one hates a person for being overweight.”

He rolled his eyes. “Right. Look. I’m sorry, okay? But I can’t be the true me while I’m with you. You’re holding me back.”

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “K-K-Kevin, p-p-please.”

The stutter bolted upright, a delighted rictus grin on its face.

It was back. Kevin’s fat was disappearing, but after all these clean years, her stutter was back.

Kevin looked at her, his face gentling. “I’m going to say this for your own good, Emmaline,” he said tenderly. “You’ve gained weight this year. You might want to watch what you eat.”

* * *

AND THAT WAS THAT. The Kevin she’d loved, who’d made being picked last for teams tolerable, who’d loved her when her words were stuck, was gone, shed like a snake skin.

He moved in with Naomi.

She wrote him a letter, unable to stop herself. It was filled with phrases such as “never stop loving you” and “don’t understand” and “please give us another chance” and all those wretched, horrible, debasing phrases that your friends tell you never to say. He didn’t answer.

When it seemed truly final, she went home to Malibu to break the news to her family.

“Kevin and I broke up,” she said that night around the kitchen table with her parents (who no longer spoke directly to each other, yet still lived together) and Angela, who was visiting from Stanford, where she was getting her PhD in astrophysics.

“We figured that was coming,” her mother said smoothly. “I accept you exactly as you are.”

“And I love you unconditionally,” Dad said, not to be outdone.

“Um...thanks,” Emmaline said. “What do you mean?”

“We always knew,” her father said.

“Knew what?”

Mom patted her hand. “That you’re g*y, honey.”

Emmaline blinked. “No, I’m not.”

“You don’t need to pretend, Emmaline. Your father and I don’t care what your sexual orientation is.” She handed Em a tissue.

“Your mother and I had dinner with the Bateses the other night,” Dad said. “They told us about Kevin’s weight loss. It’s wonderful, isn’t it?” Good old Dad, ever clueless.

“I liked Kevin better when he was fat,” Angela said. “And I’m so very sorry about this, Emmaline.” Flawless Angela always said exactly the right thing.

Em went back to Ann Arbor, only to find that the paper was downsizing, and she was out of a job.

Nana had left Angela and Em her little house in her will. They’d planned on renting it, but now, it was a godsend.

The newspaper in Manningsport had one paid employee. Even if there was an opening, Em had her fill of covering town meetings and school concerts.

There was a job advertised for administrative assistant at the police department, which had all of one full-time cop and one part-timer. Levi Cooper, the chief, had been a year behind her in high school, a bit of a toughie, on the football team. All grown-up now, a veteran, somewhat grumpy and good at his job.

Em found that people confided in her as they called with their problems. “Oh, Emmaline, hi, honey. My husband is late coming home, and I hate to be neurotic, but you think Levi would swing by Suzette Minor’s house and see if Bill’s car is there? You know Bill. You don’t? Well, he’s not the most faithful dog on the sled team.”

One day, a woman came into the station and introduced herself. Shelayne Schanta, looking to start a book club. Could she put up a notice on the bulletin board? “My fiancé dumped me for my aunt, can you believe that?” she said. “Gotta find something to do in my free time.”

“My fiancé left me six months ago,” Em heard herself saying.

“Did he cheat on you?”

He had claimed no, but even if hadn’t slept with Naomi before he dumped her, he’d been emotionally unfaithful, putting all his trust and attention and time into that shrew. Also, People magazine’s “Half Their Size” edition had just come out, and Em (and the rest of the world) got to hear what Kevin really thought of her. That was infidelity enough.

“I think so.”

“Welcome to the club,” Shelayne said. “The bitter betrayed.”

The name stuck, and the Bitter Betrayeds became her refuge. There wasn’t much reading, but there were martinis and venting. They hung out at O’Rourke’s from time to time. Emmaline joined the town hockey league, having become a pretty good skater during high school. She kept up her grandmother’s flower garden; the smell of lilacs and irises reminded her of happy memories.

As it had been in school, her attitude became her armor. If she was a tough, mouthy jock, then she wasn’t a woman who’d been tossed over for a mean girl.

But God, she missed Kevin.

She kept a button-down shirt of his from when he’d been at his heaviest. It was massive; she could wrap it around herself twice. It reminded her of the man who would make her macaroni and cheese on the second day of her period each month. Who had cut out Dilbert cartoons for her all through high school. Who sent her the complete set of Buffy the Vampire Slayer when she had her appendix out.