Oh we do, he’d written. How could I lose you when I haven’t even found you?

So she’s up to this part, the sweating hands, the black dress, the I should have never done this moment. The meeting place is a Chinese restaurant on Mott Street, a more upscale sort of place than the ones Shelby usually frequents. Tablecloths, cocktails. His choice. And yet he’s late.

“I’m waiting for someone,” Shelby says when the waiter hovers near, clearly annoyed that she’s taking up table space without ordering anything. He has started tapping his pen on his order pad and muttering. “He’s late,” Shelby tells him. “There’s traffic.”

The waiter shrugs. “Maybe he’s not coming.”

Shelby feels flushed. “Fine. I’ll have a beer. Tsingtao.”

The waiter looks at her with pity.

“And an order of pork dumplings. Steamed, not fried. And brown rice.”

“For two or one?”

The waiter’s tone makes her want to announce that she doesn’t plan on leaving a tip. Shelby glares at him. “For two.”

If her date doesn’t show the waiter will know she’s a ghost and she’ll have to eat two orders of dumplings by herself.

A light rain is falling and outside the street is slick. It will be hard to get a cab on a night like this. About as hard as it is to trust anyone in this world. Shelby begins on the dumplings as soon as they’re delivered. She eats like a starving person. Her mouth is full when she looks up to see her date in the doorway, dripping rain, wearing a tan trench coat, shoving a hand through his long, bedraggled hair. Of course, Shelby thinks as he gazes around the room for his date. This is the way it happens. This is what I deserve. The man in the doorway is her old boyfriend Ben Mink.

He searches the room, expectant, though he’s clearly soaked to the skin. He looks great, no longer skinny or gawky, just a tall, hopeful, good-looking man. It’s horrible to see the disappointment on his face when he sees her. He looks as if he’s been slapped.

Shelby feels a pit in her stomach, but she forces herself to wave. There’s no way out of this. “Hey,” she calls. “Ben! Over here.”

He stares at her, confused.

“It’s me. Shelby.”

When she signals him over, Ben gazes around at the other customers as if making a silent plea for help. No one meets his glance, so he cautiously makes his way over. He’s much taller than Shelby remembered. He has a bunch of dripping wet tulips in his hand.

“Hey, Shelby.” Ben notices she’s begun eating. “Dumplings. Of course.”

“Two orders. I’m still a pig.” Her hands are sweating even more.

“Well, good to see you.” Ben appears desperate to escape. “I’m meeting someone,” he explains.

“Yeah, me,” Shelby tells him.

“Excuse me?”

“Darklady? That’s me.”

Ben narrows his eyes. Then he gets it. She can almost see the truth of their current situation hit him. He slinks down into the chair opposite her.

“What are the odds?” she says with forced lightness.

The waiter comes over. “More beer?”

“Sure,” Shelby says cheerfully. She feels like slitting her wrists. “Make it two.”

“How the hell do you come to be Darklady?” Ben looks like he’s been the victim of a Ponzi scheme. “You’re just about the palest person I’ve ever met. Have you ever even been in the sun?”

“Dark emotionally. Don’t take things so literally, Ben.”

“What happened to that guy?” Ben says.

“Guy?” Shelby feels a pain shoot through her gut. Ben is staring at her.

“The one you used to bring to our apartment. He left a jacket there once. I threw it out. I figured if I ignored the situation, it would go away. Stupid me.”

“Ben,” Shelby says. She despises herself far more than he ever could.

“Are you living together?” he asks coldly.

“We broke up.”

The beers are delivered. The waiter stands over them with his order pad.

“We might as well eat,” Shelby says. She must be insane. She is willing to humiliate herself to keep him at the table. “We’re here.”

“We are.” Ben turns to the waiter. “I’ll have the moo shu pork, and she’ll have the General Tso’s chicken.”

“I’ll have the spicy shrimp,” Shelby corrects him.

“Since when?” Ben is puzzled.

In the past she had always ordered the same thing, but she wants to shock him and make herself seem like a changed woman. “Since now. And I’ll take the shrimp toast. And shrimp lo mein.”

They sit there staring at each other. “Maybe I’ll get mine to go,” Ben says.

“You know what’s interesting? The dating service thought we were perfect for each other. How crazy is that?” Shelby holds her breath hoping for the right response, whatever that is.

“Insane,” he agrees.

“Maybe they know something we don’t know,” she offers.

Ben laughs out loud. “You’re kidding, right?”

So there it is. He’s moved on. He stares at the door as if he’s really expecting someone else, his real date, a woman with long, dark hair who would never betray him by screwing around with some man she met on the street. They both gaze out the window. It’s pouring now.

“I’d give anything for a raincoat. A really good one. Burberry.”

“You didn’t use to like name brands.” Ben is surprised. “You used to make fun of people for spending money on stuff with logos.”

“Well that was then. People change. I appreciate Burberry now. It’s classic. I’m wearing a damn dress, Ben.”

“So you are,” he agrees.

When the food arrives they stare at it. Shelby ordered too much. “What were you thinking?” Ben says.

“It looks good.” Shelby imagines a fairy-tale scenario: if she keeps him there long enough the magic will start to work. The veil will fall from his eyes and he’ll see she’s the one for him and that she has been all along.

The food is pretty awful, but Shelby doesn’t say so. When the waiter brings two fortune cookies, Shelby shakes her head. “We don’t want those,” she says. She is more afraid than usual to find out what her fortune is. A man you love will walk away from you and not look back. A woman will stupidly cast away a true love. A sheet of ice will await you. A dog will be your best friend.