I almost let the call go to the answering machine. That had been my habit for weeks now, ever since my life seemed to shatter in a million pieces right before my eyes.

Fortunately, I still had a job and enough seniority to take emergency leave except it wasn’t for a family member. It was for myself. I’d been spending my days in my pajamas, watching marathons of Law and Order (every series because I’m just that extra), ignoring my friends and their well-meaning attempts to cajole me into coming outside. It was easier to contemplate the vaugeries of the fictional judicial system than it was to face the wreck of my life.

I turned up the TV; Benson and Stabler were chasing down yet another perp as the phone continued to ring. I blew out a breath and finally picked it up just before the machine kicked in.

I snarled “what?” which assured me that I had salty down pat.

“You really need to get more. Sitting at home alone is terrible for your disposition.”

Benson and Stabler collared the perp as I groaned, “I really don’t want to talk to you.”

Love’s laugh rumbled over the phone line. “You are such a drama queen. C’mon, let me in. I’ve got ice cream.”

The episode I’d been watching ended, smoothly easing into another one. “Fine,” I huffed. “But none of your shenanigans. I’m wallowing.”

“Fair enough.” Love paused then said, “For what it’s worth, I'm sorry it didn’t work out.”

“Yeah, well, she had six cats,” I said with a sigh. “By the end, I still liked the cats. It was probably some sort of sign but whatever. Just get up here. I’ll even let you pick the next episode.”

“Are you still on the Law and Order kick?”

“Don’t judge me.”