It’s been years since I worked in an office and even longer since I dated a coworker, but once upon a time in my previous life, I became embroiled in a workplace romance.

I’d recently broken up with a steady boyfriend, and Devin was everything that my last partner, Steve, wasn’t: Unpretentious, spontaneous, and interested in all the same things I was. We bonded quickly over our shared interest in old school hip hop and dated for several months.

I’d always heard that dating a coworker was a recipe for disaster, but I didn’t understand to what extent until my brief romance with Devin ended. Our stolen glances across the photocopy machine were quickly replaced with avoidance of the break room, not wanting to risk making awkward chit-chat around the water cooler.

At the time, dating a cowor

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