Page 93 of The Upgrade

Figures. He’s a good guy and he’ll treat her well. There’s no indication who he’s picked as the other guy, and it’s none of my damn business.

That’s not why I came to my room.

I put down the phone and go to my nightstand where I’ve stashed Miranda’s book. My ex-girlfriend’s face smiles up from the space beside her academic bio and details about her credentials. I make myself read that, braced to feel something, anything.

But all that gets through is a flicker of recognition. Not good or bad, just an awareness that I have a history with this person.

I open the book and flip to the opening chapter.

What makes relationships work?

“Not very original,” I mutter. But I keep reading.

Four hours later, I’m still reading.

I read all fucking night and into the morning, absorbing the words I’ve spent so long avoiding.

It turns out my ex has some wise things to say, and it’s backed up by data I gave her.

At a basic, primal level, human beings are wired to seek intimate, committed connections. When a partner rebuffs you—through betrayal, avoidance, or outright rejection—it’s easy to fear the fault might be yours. That if you’d only done more, if you’d onlybeenmore, things would turn out like you’d hoped. Is that what you think?

“Fuck you, Miranda,” I mutter.

But she’s not incorrect. Thatiswhat I’ve thought. I hate that she’s right, but she is.

Be sure the lessons you take from a failed relationship are the right ones. Don’t fall into the trap of focusing on your personal failures and seeing the end of a relationship as a reason to catalogue what you’re lacking. Instead, seize your chance to move forward with clarity. To pursue a connection more satisfying, more customized to what each member of a relationship needs.

The connection every single one of us deserves.

“Fuck me.” I slam the book shut, since I’ve already finished. I’ve only gone back to reread a few parts that I highlighted.

What Miranda describes is exactly what Eve has been doing here. She’s chasing her bliss, being open to finding the connections she deserves. In the face of her ex’s betrayal, she didn’t sit around worried she’s deficient in some way. She came to the Jilted Brides Honeymoon Club to grab bliss by the balls and reclaim her sense of identity. To open herself up to connection again.

And what did I do?

Kicked the damn door shut in her face. Acted like I knew better than Eve what she needs.

“I’m such an asshole.”

There’s somebody else who should hear that. Someone I trust to help yank my head from my butt.

Dialing her number, I wait for Camille to pick up.

“I’m an asshole,” I say when she answers.

My sister laughs. “Hello to you, too.” She sounds more relieved than surprised. “How are you holding up?”

Here goes nothing. “I’m working at a sex resort, studying sex workers bybeingone for a few weeks.”

“Oh. Um, wow.” There’s silence as she gathers her thoughts. “Do you, uh…want to start at the beginning?”

“Okay.” I take a deep breath and dive in. “I’m conducting research for the Jilted Brides Honeymoon Club. It’s a private Caribbean resort that needed a social psychologist to study employees’ mental health and well-being.”

“I see.” Camille lets those words linger. “And by some wild, crazy, coincidental, one-in-a-million chance, would this be Crystal Bliss Resort? The same exact place where my high school bestie just went?”

No shocker she figured it out.

“Swear to God, I didn’t know Eve would be here.”

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