Another 50-Minute Hour – The Problem With Jared (The Second Time Around) – Watching a Couple – Pros and Cons – Well, the Dog is Happy? – An Unexpected Merger and an Invitation!

Single men who were also straight weren't easy to come by in Brooklyn. Not to mention: beyond their Saturn Return, employed, responsible enough for part-time animal ownership, and capable of reading a book every three months.

Ruby made loud throat-clearing noises. "Ahem, ahem AHEM, Nicole," her therapist said. "You're fudging a really important detail here."

"What is that?" Nicole wondered how old Ruby was and whether she had any kids. She interrupted her so often she suspected she had mild ADD or at least lacked the kind of patience most parents seemed to develop.

"Jared is not single, exactly."

"Shouldn't you be happy that I'm telling you the truth? That I'm, like, being open and honest about my faults?" Nicole asked, pouting.

Ruby raised her eyebrows. "Have you forgotten the brunch fight?" In the twilight of Nicole and Jared's relationship, there had been a fight that had begun as an argument over whether to go to Rose Water or Miriam for brunch but had grown to cover all the problems with their relationship, until it grew dark and Nicole, after losing two rounds of rock-paper-scissors, was forced to sleep on the couch. "Are you going to take him back?"

"I keep thinking that maybe this is what you do," she said, and then, thinking about her therapist's asexual vibe, quickly corrected herself. "I mean, maybe this is what one does. You know? All those married people on Facebook who write status updates about date night?"

Ruby cocked her head to the side and crossed her fingers. "That's what you want?"

"I," Nicole stared at the ceiling. "Um..."

Her time was up. Ruby encouraged her to think about her answer and promised that they'd pick up right where they left off at next week's session.

She took the subway back to Prospect Heights to work on her book at Milk Bar. But instead of writing, Nicole felt distracted. She sat looking out the window, drinking iced coffee and eating avocado on toast, flipping through Thursday Styles.

She got out her iPhone and started making a list of Jared's pros and cons. To the "Pro" list she added everything she had covered in therapy, plus "wears clean underwear" and "always texts me back."

To the "Con" list, she wrote that he still favored Sun Ra as his post-coital soundtrack.

On Pros she added that he laughed at her jokes, even the one about swine flu with the punchline about male chauvinist piggism. And that Toussaint looked happier and had stopped licking his paws so obsessively.

She thought of going to bed with him every night: the ratty Adidas track pants and stained Guns 'n' Roses t-shirt-was it ironic? She had long ago decided she didn't care enough to ask-the Air Portugal sleep shade, and the socks he slept in year-round due to, he claimed, poor circulation. She wrote about the party they had once thrown together where, as she was arranging the brown rice sushi and pouring saketinis and kissing his coworkers hello, he sat in the corner reading back issues of Grand Royal he had recently purchased on eBay.

All that went on the Con list.

She looked up from her phone long enough to watch a couple at another table. They were both reading paperbacks, which seemed nice until their sandwiches arrived, after which they commenced eating and continued reading their books without saying a word to each other.

Just then, a text arrived from Jared. It read: "I miss you. Can we meet up at yr place tonight ;)"

To the Pro list she wrote: "Uses 'yr' even though it's not the '90s." To the Con list: "Use of emoticons makes me cringe, plus I've told him I hate them a million times and he doesn't remember."

Nicole was disappointed in herself. She had always been bad at knowing what she wanted-she had been one of those overly fragile kids who would get so overwhelmed at ice cream shops that she'd cry because she couldn't decide between rainbow sherbet or rocky road. Now she was in her thirties and just as tortured about her ambivalence as ever.

She felt her phone vibrating. She hated being the person to talk in a café, but she hated her navel-gazing even more. It was Darshan. "Darsh," Nicole said, dragging her name out into four syllables. "Put me out of my misery. My self-obsession is driving me crazy." The reading couple turned to give Nicole twin dirty looks; she walked outside to continue the conversation without their shaming.

"Are you doing volunteer work?" Darshan asked. "Because you know those poor girls in India who sell their hair to pay for, like, food and shelter or whatever? There's this nonprofit my mom and I are working with that makes wigs for those girls to help restore their dignity."

"But I think short hair is really chic."

"Why are you so bummed?"

"Guess."

"Jared? Still? Well, whatever, I have some news for you." Darshan paused for dramatic effect. "Are you ready?" She said it with enough command that Nicole wondered if she had been a cheerleader in high school. "Okay. Sit down. I'm getting married."

"What? Who?"

"My third cousin! Or maybe he's my first cousin, thrice removed? Anyway, I met him in Vermont! He's a craniosacral masseur!"

"Wow." Under normal circumstances, Nicole would try to reason with her friend or tell her to get to know him better, but she figured Darshan was the kind of person who would be married three, maybe four times. This sounded like an appropriate first husband.

"I'm doing a super-low key ceremony on Labor Day at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden," Darsh said. "Will you be my maid of honor?"

For the first time in days Nicole wasn't thinking about Jared. "Of course."

This is the penultimate episode! Behind? Catch up!

Marisa Meltzer lives in Brooklyn. Her next book, "Girl Power," will be published by Farrar, Straus and Giroux in February.