If Flora Morgan's life were a movie, this would be the part where she fired the screenwriter.

An email? A freaking email?

Everyone knows emails get deleted and letters get sent to the wrong address. If Sean wanted to go down the romantic cliché route, he should just stick his letter inside a bottle and throw it into the ocean. Or rather, he could write about his undying love on the pages of a Gabriel García Márquez book, sell it to a used bookstore while he was at it, and leave the rest to serendipity. Perhaps Flora would chance upon it right before she got married to the wrong guy.

He was so adorably stupid she just wanted to kiss him and yell at him and kiss him some more.

The only way to leave no room for another near miss was to sort this out in person, so Flora opted the Flora Morgan way out and hopped on the first train straight from downtown Manhattan to Boston.

Sean sounded pleasantly surprised to hear from her. He suggested dinner, so she wondered from South Station, took the Red Line to MIT, strolled past Google Cambridge and breathed in the smart people air around her as she waited for nightfall. She liked the surroundings; this was different from NYC but it reminded her of Sean.

She sat down at the restaurant first and ordered herself a drink. She didn't have too much time to contemplate how she wanted to approach him before the door opened.

Sean showed up in a simple V-neck tee, Nike sneakers, and a faded pair of jeans that hugged him so well it was downright provoking. He stopped at the reception desk and Flora took this opportunity to check out his butt.

There are two kinds of reaction when facing an ex; "what the hell was I thinking?" versus "what the hell was I thinking when I broke up with him?" It was pretty easy to decide which category Sean Foster belonged to. He looked up, and the edge of his eyes crinkled up when he saw her from across the room. She felt a sense of shyness just like the old times.

He sat down and at first he just smiled at her. "What brings you here?" he said finally, after staring at her for what seemed like a few seconds too long. "It's been a while."

"You," she said. "I'm here to see you."

Sean smiled again, looking a little shy too, like he just found out he was paired with his crush for class. "I've missed you," he said. "Ever since you started your job as assistant editor, you've been really busy."

"Yeah, you know how it is. It's entirely different from being a part time intern. I like that feeling, though, to have a short term goal, which is to get the hang of this job asap. I can sprint towards that with all my energy."

Life had been hectic ever since college graduation and her contact with Sean was mostly constituted of short texts. She had a job to focus on, a new apartment in Tribeca which she shared with two other girls, Elizabeth and Carrie, and an old flame (who sat across from her now) she kept buried in the back of her mind.

That old flame exploded into fire and burned down any last shred of hesitancy when Luke told her about the email. There had always been something between Sean and her, but they'd been putting it off and getting on with their respective lives. She was tired of ignoring it. All she needed was a push, and like lifting a heavy rug, she was ready to face what was lurking underneath.

"Speaking of which," Sean said, "ever since you got your job, I've subscribed faithfully to Esquire."

"Really?" She pretended to scrutinize over his outfit. "You don't look like you learned anything from it."

Sean wasn't like the metrosexual image in the magazine; he was still laid-back and boyish, drinking his Heineken and looking incredibly comfortable with himself. She wouldn't have it any other way.

"I love that magazine," he said. "It's at just the right size and weight, perfect for covering my instant ramen bowl. And this is Helmut Lang." He lifted the collar of his gray tee and mocked her snobbish tone. "Don't you know anything, Flora? It's the top ten essentials of this season so show some respect."

Flora chuckled. He was so cute with his label dropping and she was surprised he could afford designer item now. "Looks great on you. How have you been?"

"I'm doing great," he said. "Did you know that Brian got in Harvard Medical School? Janet moved here, so I get to see her a lot more often now. Stella drives them both crazy."

"I wish I could see them more often too! I haven't been in close contact with any of my friends for the past few months."

"Well, it's a cutthroat world out there in New York," Sean said, sounding understanding as always. "It's just a phase. I know how hard it is to make the transition from school to work. It took me quite some time to find my own rhythm, too."

"So is everything in your life in order now?"

Sean nodded, and there was a shimmer in his eyes that wasn't there before. Flora took it as a good sign that he finally seemed ready, and she noticed his phone hadn't made a sound so far.

"By the way," he said, "did I tell you about Mel?"

Flora swallowed. "No. Who's that?"

Please tell me Mel is a guy.

Melvin, probably.

Melville works, too.

"Melissa Ng," he said gleefully. "She's amazing! I thank God every day for blessing me with her in my life—"

Flora's stomach dropped all the way down to her Gianvito Rossi velvet pumps. Sean was generally not a very enthusiastic person, but now he was gushing.

"—ever since I decided to hire her," he continued to say, "our business is going all the way up at a rate that scares me. She's a genius, literally. We've become the trinity dream team with her on board."

She took a deep breath to calm her nerves. "So she's your business partner?"

"Yes. Yes. Here, let me give you my card."

Sean took out a metal business card holder that matched the money clip he still used. He slid a card across the table. It was tastefully printed in laurel green, and in the middle it said, Sean Foster, CTO and cofounder.

"This looks so cool," Flora said, impressed. "Chief technology officer?"

He nodded and smiled. "Yeah. I'm backend and frontend developer, UX and UI designer, market researcher...all rolled into one. Fred's the CEO and team leader. He went to MIT Sloan School of Management and he's responsible for business plans and the company's vision. He likes doing all the things I hate, such as pulling in investors and shaking hands, so that works out well for us. Basically I make the product and he tries to sell the heck out of it, but before Melissa came, we were seriously burnt out."

"What's Melissa in charge of?"

"She has a solid background in accounting and finance, so we made her the CFO. She and Fred both grew up in Manhattan and they're based there now, but I like staying in Boston. Hopefully we can hire more engineers in the future so I can sit back as the technical team leader." He stopped and tossed her an embarrassed smile. "You have to stop me because I can talk about this all day."

"I can listen to you talk about this all day."

He looked down at the table and grinned. "I'm pleased business is taking off. We're finally making money...I'm not obsessed about money, but it's a great sense of validation that we managed to bootstrap a company to profit."

Flora liked the radiant confidence he emitted, and she liked it even more that Melissa wasn't who she thought she was. "For a minute there, I thought Melissa was your girlfriend."

Sean's eyes widened. "Jesus, no. We get along well and she's nice, but it's strictly professional between us."

Flora took a sip of her champagne. "That's good to—"

"My girlfriend is Heather."

She choked.

"I think I mentioned her once before," Sean said. "She's—"

"Heather. Heather as in your roommate Heather?"

Sean had brought up before that he was rooming with a girl after he moved out from the frat house, and at the time he had said it was strictly professional too. He needed a place to stay and the rent was cheap, so when a mutual friend hooked them up, he gladly took the place, especially since he got his own bathroom.

"Yeah...but she's not just a roommate anymore," he admitted sheepishly, gazing across the table at her. "You know how I used to think a guy and a girl can't stay under the same roof alone and stay platonic? Well, I bet some people can, but in my case...I really can't."

So he slept with her, Flora thought, trying to control her breathing. Big deal. It's not the first time he slept with some random girl. To Sean she said, with her calmest smile, "So how long have you been seeing her?"

"About two months."

Two months is okay. Two months is only 60 days. How much damage can Heather do in 60 days?

She ravaged his body 60 times.

Maybe 80.

Fuck.

Don't go there, Flora.

She inhaled. "How's it going? Is it serious or...?"

"It's going well," he said. "She's really chill. We have a...how do I say this...a balanced relationship and we're comfortable with sharing everything."

The nonchalant way he said it made the alarms go off wildly in her head. Sean wasn't known to exaggerate, so when he said well, it could mean freaking fantastic.

"Does she know you're meeting me?"

"Of course she does," he said it so matter-of-factly. "She knows who you are and she even suggested this place. We love the lobster here."

He did not just say we. Flora wanted to puke. She didn't want to eat anything anymore, especially not lobsters.

"Do you want to meet her?" Sean asked with complete innocence. "We live two blocks away, so I could introduce you two if you want."

We had quickly become her most hated word in English.

"Sure," she said brightly. She flashed another smile and pretended she was starring in a toothpaste commercial.

Jessica once quoted Sun Tzu's The Art of War and told her that "the supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting", and that "if you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles". Flora decided that she didn't need to be scared of this Heather. She would meet her, collect information about her, and with grace and class, she would show her who Sean really belonged with.

Flora came to Boston ready to fight, after all. She wouldn't back down at the first sign of obstacle, and she didn't plan to leave until she had Sean back in her arms.

Sorry, Heather. It's nothing personal. You had two months, but I've occupied Sean's heart since high school.

He smiled back at her, looking relieved. "Great! Tell me your honest opinion of her afterwards," he said in such an easy way, as if there was no way she wouldn't like this Heather.

She had already formed an honest opinion which was that they should break up right away, but she nodded politely and waited for him to text his girlfriend.

When Heather showed up, Flora had just begun to enjoy her meal. She scooped up a pile of corns, looked up at the door, and her appetite vanished again.

Sun Tzu didn't prepare her for this.

The nausea in the pit of her stomach rose up like a tsunami, threatening to swallow her as a whole, accompanied by the sick realization that Sean no longer needed her.

Heather was no random girl. She was dreadfully, ruthlessly, infuriatingly beautiful, the kind that made her enemies want to claw out their eyes. She was tall, her height a perfect match against Sean's frame as he stood up to greet her, smiling in that serene, knowing way between people in a secure relationship. She wore a loose cashmere sweater and ballet flats, as if she just threw those on, and for the first time in her life, Flora felt overdressed and childish in her flared bottom dress. She tried too hard while Heather didn't bother to try at all. She seemed effortlessly cool just like Sean did.

And the most unforgivable part was that she was blonde, for God's sake. Satin-colored and reflectively glossy, her hair was a pool of warm honey.

Flora felt cheated on. Sean always said he liked brunettes.

Heather held out her hand. "Hi, Flora. I'm Heather. Nice to finally meet you," she said, smiling with her eyes slightly curved up. They were gray, like thunder clouds and mist and granite. "Sean talks about you all the time. He said you were friends since high school."

She shook Heather's cool fingers numbly and choked out a greeting.

"You're absolutely stunning," Heather said, and then she glanced over at Sean. "You weren't lying. I'm starting to believe you really were something in high school."

Sean shrugged. "I told you I was all that. I'm clearly one of those people that peaked in high school."

Heather nodded. "Clearly." She went on to compliment Flora's juvenile dress.

They were both being nice, but Flora felt ridiculed. She was categorized as something from his past, back when he was playing varsity basketball and dating the most popular cheerleader, and like his varsity jacket, she was no longer cool past high school.

He moved on.

Heather was sophisticated with a voice like cool silk, dipping in just the right amount of smile into the conversation. Flora could tell she was the kind of woman who would watch CNN with him and probably knew how to cook. She looked like she'd never scream at him and ask him petty questions like who he loved more and would rescue out of a burning house.

Flora was ridiculous in thinking she could get Sean back as soon as she started her attack.

They asked her questions about her life and claimed that they were jealous of her fabulous job and quaint apartment in Manhattan, in that very tone that suggested they weren't even close to being jealous. It was like faking interest in other people's newborn babies. They kept the focus on her and away from themselves, because it was the proper thing to do to a guest.

She was an outsider and her insides turned in acid turmoil.

There was one thing Flora was extremely bad at, and that was hiding her feelings. Her tears were threatening to fall and she didn't want to make a scene.

Heather noticed first. She stopped her fork in midair and there was what seemed like genuine concern on her face. "Are you okay?"

"I have...I have an allergic reaction to my salad dressing," Flora said. "I just need some air. Be right back."

All this time when she thought she was putting their relationship on hold, that they would eventually find their way back to each other, she never considered this scenario. It was finally crystal clear that she had lost him.

She stood up and stumbled out the door.

When it came to online shopping, she hated adding an item to her wish list and later found out it was out of stock before she could proceed to check out. When it came to Sean, she'd rather give up shopping for the rest of her life than to see him with another girl.

It was chilly at night in Boston. Flora took a few steps away from the restaurant and sat down at the stairs in front of another building, hyperventilating and wondering how she could end this night with some dignity. She half expected it when Sean came out a short while later and joined her.

He sat down, feeling near and far next to her. "Flora, what's wrong?"

She couldn't form sentences right away. "I just..." She choked back an unwanted whimper. "I didn't know it would feel like this."

Sean was silent beside her, waiting for her to continue.

"You're finally dating now and I hate how good you two look together. I can tell you're happy, and I hate how I can't be genuinely happy for you. This isn't even an ego thing. It's not because I lost but I lost you." She pushed her hair out of her face. "I came to Boston to tell you I love you and I want you back."

His pupils were dark and dilated, staring at her face, not blinking. "Flora, I..." he faltered. "I don't know what to say. You haven't been talking to me much at all and suddenly you're saying this...I thought you were dating Luke?"

"I broke up with Luke 6 months ago."

"6 months!"

Flora told him what happened that day, when she got his text about his granddad and Luke asked her to make a choice. To her dismay, Sean looked more uncomfortable than moved.

"I didn't know," he said, his eyes guilty and his voice soft. "I wouldn't have bothered you if I'd known that you were out celebrating. I'd never deliberately jeopardize your relationship, Flora. I'm so sorry."

"You don't need to be sorry. I don't regret that decision."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Look at it from my side. We slept together and pretended it didn't happen. I thought you weren't interested in pursuing anything further, and the last thing I want is for you to feel guilty about me and Luke, especially since you were in mourning." She looked up to peer into his eyes. "But that was before Luke told me about your email."

Sean stared at her. "I can't believe he told you," he said finally. "When?"

"This morning."

His lips pulled into a faint smile. "You don't waste any time."

"Because you already wasted too much time! How could you let Luke talk you out of it?" She could hear the accusation creeping into her voice, angry at how complicated he had to make this.

She loved him. He loved her. They should be together, simple as that.

"When he talked to me that day, he said he was going to ask you to call me later, and you did. Do you remember what you said to me?" Sean looked up from his sneakers to her face. His features were beautiful and melancholy under the streetlamp. "You said that you liked him and that you were taking a chance. That this time it could mean something. He was attentive and kind and you were happy. I said that was all I needed to hear. Do you remember that, Flora?"

Flora thought that this all sounded wrong now. She was taking a chance because she thought Sean was a dead end. She went in the game without knowing all her options.

She was played.

"You and Luke made this decision for me," she said and tears started to push against the rims of her eyes. "You thought you could negotiate this behind my back!"

"That's not—"

"You didn't give me a choice!"

"Listen, Flora. You can't say that because you always have a choice. You chose to sleep with me. You chose to say nothing about it afterwards, too, and you chose to go out with Luke and stopped contacting me. You even chose to keep your breakup from me."

There was no hostility in his voice, just helplessness. Flora didn't have words to contradict him.

"Do you think it didn't hurt the first time you told me you were seeing somebody? Ryan, I think," Sean said. "It did, a lot. It hurt the second time too, and the third time. When you told me about your boyfriends in Japan and when you said you wanted to stay single...I never got used to it, but I accepted every time."

"You didn't have to accept it. You could've said something."

He shook his head. "Do you know why? Because it's good for you. You need to go through things like that to understand yourself better, but for me, I always know what I want. I want you to be happy, even if it's alone or with someone else."

Flora was openly crying now.

"When you told me about Luke," he went on, "it's the first time you sounded content. He's finally not a