It shouldn't have, but the news that my rival, my successful rival, had fathered a child by the former love of my life, killed my heart yet again. Sad...e should have been mine. I guess I'd been kidding myself: I still wasn't over her—Jemima. I began to wonder if a man could ever get over something like that, like what had happened to me. If I'd been asked at that moment, I would have said no.And then, if that had not been enough, she, my ex, had the opportunity to rub my nose in it yet again;. Hell, I didn’t have much of anything, except free time. I was thirty, and this was already more exposure to a woman than I’d had in a year. I’d been planning to bake a pizza and drink myself unconscious -- not because I liked alcohol, but because I might not sleep, otherwise, and I didn’t like drugs. Porn would handle the other urges, more or less -- it usually did. I was as needy as she was -- maybe worse. The one thing that could have screwed us hadn’t come up -- the, ‘We can’t go home -- my. More

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