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Even in her distress, the tall, slender blond was a picture. But her emotional pain was heavy as she leaned forward on the tiny table at a Michigan Avenue Starbucks.
Mr. Sensitive sat across from her, obviously having heard enough of her story. This was an emotional situation, and a comforting pat would have seemed appropriate. But nothing.
Instead, he said: “Listen, he’s a man. He erased you and erased your brother. You have to get past it.”
Then he jumped up and said, “Gotta go!”
