Till Summer Do Us Part

by Meghan Quinn

Yes, you read that right…penis after chino-encased penis. To tell it to you straight, I work surrounded by a real sausage fest.

sure did.” This is a living nightmare. Surrounded by happy couples boasting about their weekend

Insanely jealous. Because, I’m going to be honest with you, the rom-com life I planned on living when I made the move to the city was not the kind of Nancy Meyers dream I was looking for. Sure, I might have the apartment aesthetic with the cozy, slipcovered furniture and herbs in the windowsill, but the falling in love with myself, not so much.

Well, guess what, Chad? Your hands are small, your fingers are thin, and I think we all know that that means⁠— “Scottie,” Ellison says, grabbing my attention. “May I please speak with you in private?” The hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up as I feel Ellison’s gaze zero in on me. She, uh, she wants to see me in private?

I’m lucky I haven’t fainted from the anxiety driving through me, because I just agreed to a marriage counseling appointment with my boss’s husband.

“That my friend needs a fake husband for a therapy session tomorrow at nine in the morning, can you fill in? He said, ‘Sounds like fun, send me the deets.’”