There were plenty of things in life that sucked more than not hooking up with Ramsey anymore. Like spontaneous human combustion. Dying rain forests. Getting your toenails ripped out with tweezers. Global warming. Slamming your whole hand in a car door. Never mind that most of these things involved acts of bodily harm or global catastrophe. I mean, sometimes I did feel a physical pang. In my balls or, more troublesome, my chest, when I looked at him. I just reminded myself it could be worse. And most of the time it worked.
Worked-ish.