His hand remained at my neck.
I leaned into it.
Reid’s gaze dropped to my mouth.
He waited.
I kissed him first.
A brief touch.
Soft enough to be uncertain.
His beard brushed my chin.
When I drew back, his expression had become almost unbearably tender.
“You should go,” I said.
“I should.”
Neither of us moved.
“Caleb is probably destroying something.”
“Likely.”
“Go.”
Reid kissed my forehead.
Then he collected the dishes and left.
I stood until the stairwell door closed.
Marlowe looked up from the rug.
“Don’t.”
His tail moved.
I returned to the couch.
The apartment did not become frightening without Reid, but it became more effortful. I turned on the television and immediately turned it off again. Too many images. Too many voices.
I tried the puzzle.
My concentration lasted six minutes.
I drank water because an alarm told me to.
I wrote in the journal:
Ask about money.
Ask what I own.
Ask if Reid is losing work because of me.
