There comes a time in every therapist's life when she needs to take her own advice. Granted, this was not a problem I had foreseen myself encountering. I suppose it was rather unprofessional of me to overlook what I considered "the small stuff", since my day-to-day job is dealing with super-beings who have been jilted in spectacular ways by other super-beings, and helping them organize their scattered feelings into a coherent plan of revenge. But really - what girl who was abandoned at the beginning of time by a scrawny trickster god would expect him to get hotter?

There are many things I learned from Midgard's plethora of self-help and relationship advice books, despite the fact that they neglect inter-dimensional, inter-species, inter-state-of-living, and inter-temporal relationships altogether. The bright side of that little oversight was that I found my niche in the market quite easily, and everyone knows that to start a successful business you need a niche. In any case - I knew what I had to do to "win the breakup" as they say. I got hotter. That part was relatively easy as I simply grew breasts and hips in the proper proportions. Really, men are so easy to please. I updated my "look" to chic, modern, and elegant. I became a career-minded professional, and I can safely say I am the premier super-powered relationship counselor in the tri-state area, if not the country. My blog alone gets thousands of hits a day, and I have a book in the works that is sure to be an interdimensional bestseller.

Most of all, I used my pain to make me stronger. I came to terms with the fact that, while separating the deceitful wretch's head from his shoulders immediately upon our next encounter would be terribly amusing, it would not give me the satisfaction I yearned for. His death would have to be much, much slower than that. Or maybe I could go the poetic route and leave him somewhere at the beginning of time. Either way, I found that my time was more constructively spent planning elaborate revenge than moping over my abandonment issues.

My plans were going perfectly, too. It was so easy for me to lure one of Loki's friends - or, knowing him, acquaintance to be used and then thrown to the side of the road - to New York where the Mother could capture him. I was cool, composed, and may I even say quite suave when I talked to the little bastard on the phone. I had everything in hand and I was absolutely certain that I had eradicated every lingering feeling I might have had for my former BFF.

Loki always did love to complicate things.

From listening to Teddy's ramblings, I had certainly not expected to encounter a tall, slender and still devastatingly green-eyed young man who could pull off black nail polish of all things. And who would have thought that the childish roundness of his face would give way, in adolescence, to cheekbones you could cut yourself on? The boyish charm had turned somewhat roguish, but was still familiar in the way he chirped a "hello, Leah!" at me.

Of course he couldn't just leave it at that. "Long time no see, BFF! Probably longer for you though. But don't worry, it looks good on you." His smirk turned a little more predatory with that last comment, and I forced myself to suppress the destructive magic gathering at my fingertips and breathe. Pain to strength, I reminded myself, and turned his comment into a compliment: you've still got it Leah, you're more attractive now than ever.

I faked a smile and dragged my gaze up from where it had begun to linger on how the new armor hugged his body much closer than the old outfit, and my goodness that coat was well-tailored. He had to have known I had a weakness for a tasteful touch of fur. "Loki," I said simply.

He gave me his best hurt-feelings face, which was admittedly much more effective with the new bone structure. "Aw, don't be that way, Leah! What's a little abandonment between friends? I'll make it up to you. Milkshake later? My treat."

I smiled, showing my teeth and letting him know that everything I'd suffered because of him for the past few millenia was about to come back and bite him. "Before or after the Mother feeds on what's left of your soul for the rest of eternity?" I asked sweetly, not adding that ultimately it would not be the Mother who would be responsible for his demise.

"Great. I'll pick you up after the battle then?" he said blithely. "Do try to survive," he threw back over his shoulder as chaos consumed the Mother's home dimension.

Strangely, I found myself thinking as we battled, I might not mind so much if the result went poorly for the Mother.

Milkshakes still were my favorite food.