"Thanks, Ms. Niehaus," I hear Sophia say as she exits the classroom. She is one of my best students, but a bit of a teacher's pet.

"Have a good weekend, Sophia," I yell after her.

I slump back into my chair. It's been a long week. I look around the classroom and sigh as I see the lab tables that have not been cleaned up.

"These kids," I mumble, reluctantly getting up to clean before going home.

I think about the weekend ahead, that I should be happy to have some time off, but it just gives me time to think about my life and the routines I have gotten myself into. I'll go home, smoke, drink wine alone, and fall asleep at some ungodly hour after grading papers or researching my next lesson in an attempt to win my kids over. My job has become my life, and I have little to no social life.

Not that I don't have friends, I just am not that interested in hanging out, and always say no when they invite me. It's my fault really. I've fallen into my lonely routine and am afraid to disrupt it.

I finish cleaning and walk the two blocks to the subway, getting on the train back to Brooklyn. As the train wheels screech, I lose myself in my thoughts. The train emerges above ground to cross the bridge and I feel the warm sunlight on my shoulders. It is finally spring after a long, cold winter, which has been one of the worst of my life.

I think about my life a year ago. I had been living with Jess, my girlfriend of four years, and I had been happy, or at least what I had thought was happiness. I thought we would spend the rest of our lives together. At 31, I was feeling settled, a feeling I wanted. We were going to get married, have kids, all the things you build up in your mind as the perfect life.

That was, until that day in October. It was close to Halloween and we had been making plans to go to a party with friends. Jess was distant, acting weird. I knew something was up. You don't know someone for four years and not know if something is wrong.

She had looked at me with such coldness when she told me. "Cosima, I met someone else. We want to be together. I'm moving to Minnesota for her."

How had she met this girl? How long had this been going on? Fucking Minnesota?

I had been enraged, sobbing hysterically, more hurt than I had ever been in my life, my whole world shattered.

She moved out the next day.

The train screams to a stop at my station. I bolt up, running out the door, taking the stairs quickly and walking briskly to my apartment.

When I get inside, I take off my shoes, put a frozen pizza in the oven and sit down with a glass of wine to relax.

It had been seven months. Seven months since she left me, seven months since I had been with anyone, let alone kissed anyone.

It was lonely. I was lonely.

My friends had encouraged me to put myself back out there, try dating apps. But I couldn't do it. I hated dating apps with people who seemingly only wanted to get laid. Or people who lied to hide their true selves. No, that's not what I wanted.

I close my eyes, sipping the wine slowly. The buzzing of my phone startles me as I look down to see who is calling.

Oh, it's Felix. My best friend.

"Hey, Felix," I say unenthusiastically as I answer.

"Hey, what are you doing? Wallowing in your own tears again?" he asks, in his English accent.

He could be so sweet.

"Felix, what do you want?"

"Well, actually, I want you to come out with me tonight," he says.

"Mmm, I don't know, I'm so tired," I groan.

"And I don't care," he says with a snarky tone, "Robbie is in a band and he wants me to come to his show and you're coming with me."

"Who's Robbie?"

"The guy I'm seeing...hello!"

"Since when?" I ask incredulously. Felix doesn't do relationships.

"I've been seeing him for two weeks!" he exclaims.

"Oh ho ho, wow two weeks," I say sarcastically.

"Cosima, I'm not taking no for an answer. I'll text you the details and that's the end of it."

He hangs up before I have the chance to protest.

"Argh," I groan.

He texts me the name of a bar and that I should meet him there at 9. Well, at least I have a few hours to myself.

I eat my pizza and finish my wine. I figure I should probably shower before going out. What am I going to wear? I don't really care that much. I'm not looking to talk to anyone, although I haven't been out in a while, so I figure I should look decent. I am going out in Manhattan after all.

I decide on a simple maroon dress, letting my dreads down and putting on a little extra makeup. I am meeting Felix's man; I should look good. I laugh to myself.

I grab my jacket and keys and head for the subway. Hopefully, I could be home and in bed by 11.