na

house bedroom and slide u

and his familiar scent surrounds me-but his touch registers as nothing more than dead weight. A pressure builds in my throat,

never

e buzzes. Its screen casts a harsh, rectangular light across the d

ions on the lock screen,

says Cassio is goi

it for him to tell "that woman" the

land like a blow. It lands

scribing its fire under the light, and reminds him of h

ter; they cease altogether. I feel a strange, hollow suspension in my chest, a space where a reaction ought to be. For a spli

es no

y in our bed, and the past does not