“That’s the trouble with unspoken agreements, everyone interprets them the way they want. I thought we had a commitment, apparently you didn’t.” She sounded both angry and sad all at once.

“My primary commitment has always been to my work. You knew that,” he reproached her quietly. He didn’t want to be made to feel guilty. His mother always did that to him and he hated it. Brigitte never had. He wanted to celebrate his dig, and his departure, not feel like a bad guy for leaving, which was more than a little simplistic, since it meant the end of their romance. But that was a price he was prepared to pay, and she had never expected. She realized now that she had been blind. And now he was, to everything but his dig. “I’m sorry, Brig. I know this is sudden. It’s hard for me too, but it’s pretty clean actually. We don’t even share an apartment. In fact, I was going to ask you if you want some of my stuff. I’m going to donate the rest. I don’t have a decent piece of furniture in the place, except the couch.” They had bought it together the year before, and now he was getting rid of that too, as easily as he was getting rid of her. She hadn’t felt this shocked or abandoned since her father’s death, and that came to mind as she sat and stared at Ted.

“What about my eggs?” she asked, as tears rolled down her cheeks. She was slowly losing control of her emotions and feeling panicked. This was not the Valentine’s Day dinner she had planned, nor that Amy had hoped for her.

“What eggs?” Ted looked blank.

“My eggs. The babies we’ll never have, and I may never have at all now. I’m thirty-eight years old, we’ve been together for six years. What am I supposed to do, put a notice on the bulletin board for some guy to marry and have kids with?”

“Is that all I was?” He looked insulted.

“No. You were the man I love, you still are. It was just so simple the way it was, I never asked the pertinent questions, I didn’t think I had to. Why can’t I go with you?” She looked at him pointedly, and he looked instantly uncomfortable.