In hindsight, you suppose you should’ve seen this coming.

Men can never quite shake off their first loves. It’s a fact of life—the sky is blue, the sun yellow, and that after the first place in a man’s heart is taken, whatever comes next is simply second.

In your case; this is particularly dire. Art was married to her for seven years, met her in college, fell in love at first sight and was coached to tennis stardom by her throughout the course of their lengthy and, admittedly, rocky relationship. You don’t even like tennis. You just pretend to be interested because his face lights up so much when he talks about it.

Maybe that’s why you’ll never connect with him like you want. Try and dislodge her from that spot in his heart that you’d like to take so bad. Tennis is fundamental to Art and you just don’t have that in common either him.

The gorgeous and stone-faced Tashi Duncan does. Shes also the same age as him, to make things worse, because now you feel like a stupid little girl with a crush in your own relationship.

Art’s never given you any indication that he doesn’t love you as much as he loved her, of course. It’s Art. He’s soft and loving and yearning in every way. He treats you like a queen but you just can’t help but compare. Look at her. Look at you. What were they and what are you and him?

You try to push it out of your mind. After all, Art’s rarely spoken about her and when he has, it’s hardly been praise. He said she was cold and manipulative, that whenever he said he loved her, she tell him she knew. You know it’s bad but you’re glad she had an affair with his best friend. It’s one of those things that a person can’t come back from.

Anyhow—it happens on a regular Thursday evening. You’re making out with Art and it’s going well. It feels good. You smile against his mouth and think to tell him you love him.

“God,” he whispers as he pulls away, cupping your face gently, a dreamy look in his face. “Tashi—“

His own jaw drops at his mistake and he blinks. Your heart sinks. You knew it.