Love that does not lay waste is not love. Omar Khayyâm Two months, already. Two months since she had left. Two months since Jean had last opened the shutters of his apartment. Two months since Jean had been cursing the world and life itself... At work, he found it extremely difficult to concentrate. Like jailers making their rounds, dark thoughts circled endlessly in his mind. The slightest thing set him off. Usually of an affable and rather sociable nature, he had now become irritable and reclusive. Once always dressed to the nines, he now neglected himself, showing up to work in sweatpants with a three-day stubble—much to the dismay of the secretaries, who had made his appearance, and especially his ties, one of their favorite daily topics of conversation. He was unrecognizable. In just two months, he had lost a considerable amount of weight. His eyes seemed to consume his face. “Jean, are you coming out with us tonight? Thierry and I are going to stuff our faces at Brasserie Geor...