Sarah didn't know how to react. Ideally, this would be an incredibly romantic setting. They were at Gigi's, he favorite Italian restaurant. They were seated out on the balcony, where small white lights twinkled between the grape vines that ran up the trellis. There was even a goddamn violin player, none of the cheesy piped-in Sinatra they play at Olive Garden. And this was the setting where her boyfriend of three years, the boy who claimed to love her, the boy she gave her virginity to, was dumping her.

"What do you mean, you can't commit? What the fuck have we been doing the last three years?" she shook her head in frustration. If that was his excuse, it was a little late.

"No, I mean, Sarah, you're great. And I love you, I really do, but I just can't handle this ready-made family you've got going on." Jeremy ran his hand through his hair, a telltale sign of nervousness.

"That's crap, Jeremy. It's not like I'm pregnant, I'm just taking care of my little brother." She stabbed angrily at her grilled swordfish, refusing to let an expensive meal go to waste when this would probably be the last one he paid for.

"You make it sound like a fucking babysitting job, but Sarah, be realistic. The kid's six. You're looking at the next twelve years of your life. I mean, if it were just the two of us, we could make it work, but I'm not ready to play daddy to your kid brother." He grabbed her hand as he said this, forcing him to look him in the eye. It was the intensity of his eyes that had first attracted her three years ago, back when she was still convincing her diary she'd never find another man she found as attractive as…

"Sarah, what are you thinking?" Jeremy asked, pulling her back to reality.

"Nothing," she mumbled.

"See? Goddamn it, this is exactly what I'm talking about. Even when we're together lately you're miles away. You're an island, Sarah, and nothing I do gets through to you!" He pulled away and leaned back in his chair, observing her from a distance as if to illustrate his point.

"Gee, I'm sorry that my little personal tragedies bother you, Jeremy. Good thing you've made it perfectly clear that it's no longer your problem." Her eyes grew cold as she said it. Screw the meal she thought, no food is worth this crap.

"Sarah, I mean it, if it weren't for your brother –" he started, but she quickly cut him off.

"Oh, what a lovely idea. I'll just hand my little brother over to child services so that I'll have more time to bake you cookies and suck your dick, ok?" She stood up from the table.

"Sarah that's not-"

"Fuck you, Jeremy." Sarah stormed out the door and got in her car.

It was only 7:30 when Sarah got home from the restaurant, but she had no desire to go back out that night. She refused to cry over that asshole, but she did decide to give in to the every-woman's remedy: a hot shower, followed by large quantities of Ben 'n Jerry's Phish Food. She had just changed into her terry cloth bathrobe when the doorbell rang.

So help me God, if Jeremy followed me home I'm going to give him a piece of my mind she thought as she opened the door. But it wasn't Jeremy. Nothing could have prepared her for who she saw standing there.