It was a typical Saturday morning when my ex, Alex, showed up at my doorstep. This wasn’t unusual, except for the fact that I had kicked him out two months ago after he turned my life into an episode of a bad reality show. I didn’t even hear him knock—he just appeared, like a misplaced cloud, looking all sheepish and holding a plastic grocery bag. Without saying much, he shoved it into my hands. “Here,” he mumbled. “I got you some stuff.”
I stared at the bag, expecting something more meaningful. Maybe milk? Or perhaps a nice bottle of wine to apologize for his past mistakes? But no, inside the bag were just a dozen eggs and half a pound of bologna. I blinked, confused. “Eggs? And… bologna?” I asked. He looked serious as he handed them to me. “Yeah, top-notch stuff. Thought you could use it.” I was too stunned to respond, so I just nodded, muttering, “Thanks, I guess.”
