It wasn’t that Lina was afraid of the dark, but since the horrific night when she was sixteen, she’d never felt as safe when the sun went down. So when she entered her bedroom at a few minutes past 11:30 p.m., she was already mentally prepared for the fear she felt at being alone. What she wasn’t prepared for was the ache in her heart when she looked into Phil’s wardrobe. About a third of his clothes were gone. She leaned in, intending to close the door, but found herself stepping into his closet and wandering around, running her fingers over his suits, her eyes scanning the half-empty shelves. She could still smell him, his scent permeating the air. She lifted one of his sweatshirts and brought it to her face, breathing him in as tears clouded her vision.

She wanted her Phil back. Not the one who’d had an affair, but the one who would never have betrayed her.

She lowered herself onto her bed and cried into his shirt, releasing the tears she’d been holding all day. Thirty minutes passed before the tears abated, but as soon as she entered the bathroom she was once again overcome when she saw his empty side of the sink. It was as if he had never been there. She wanted to call him and tell him to come home, but visions of him and Kim came into her mind. She didn’t feel like she could be with him or without him. Her eyes traveled to the teenage picture of them on her nightstand. She wanted to turn back the clock and bring that boy back.

When the tears finally stopped, she reached for her phone and called his cell. He didn’t answer, but moments later she received a text.

I’m with Megan, it read. I can’t talk.

How is she? she texted back.

Sad.

Could I talk to her? Would you have her call me?

It’s midnight, Lina. We’re in my suite watching a movie and she’s barely awake. I’ll have her call you tomorrow.

Okay. Tell her I love her.

Lina was wondering if it was too late to call Nick when her phone chimed with a text from him. Everything okay?

She called him, gripping the phone as his voice came over the line. “Hard day,” she whispered.

“I know,” he said. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“I wish.” She closed her eyes and tried to picture him. “I hate the night. I usually take something to help me sleep when Phil travels, but I don’t want to have to take them permanently.”

“Taking something temporarily, until you’re feeling a little better, is probably a good idea.”

“Or you could come over. I’d rather have you than a pill.”