Ben let out a heavy breath. He was looking at his pint glass rather than at Art, and used the edge of his thumb to rub some of the condensation off.

"Well, not your whole life," he said with a shrug. Ben was still here, anyway, though he supposed that didn't count for much. And while Art and Desdemona might have been fighting, Ben really doubted that they were fighting in the same way that he and Melody were, so that was something, too. Not that he could say that, because he didn't know what Art and Desdemona were fighting about. But Art and Desdemona were different than Ben and Melody were, and when they fought it must have been different, too. Not quite so hopeless, Ben imagined. They were actually in love with each other, whereas he was starting to think that both he and Melody had always just been pretending.