I woke up, unsure of how long I’d been asleep, and found Patrice sitting in bed reading from what looked like a pile of papers. I shifted onto my side, and he turned to look at me. He was wearing those reading glasses I’d seen on him a couple of times, bare chested and so handsome it took enormous restraint to keep from sighing. The rain must’ve stopped while I was asleep, since a couple of slivers of sunshine were peeking in through his window curtains. He put down the papers and placed them at the top of the pile sitting on his bedside table and ran a hand down my naked flank.

For a moment I lay there, blissfully imagining that he was mine and I was his. That he hadn’t told me we were over before we really started. We stayed like that for a few minutes, me pretending to be asleep and him quietly stroking my back.

I was almost drifting back to sleep when my phone, which he apparently got out of my short pockets and placed on the little table next to the bed, started buzzing. When I opened my eyes, I found his trained on me, and then he smiled. That smile I rarely saw which was pure and unguarded. I was about to say something, but reached for my phone instead.

It was a message from my dad.

If you have time to spare from the temper tantrum you call a career, your grandfather would like to see you at his birthday brunch today. You’re already an hour late.

It was like someone had dumped a bucket of cold water on me. My father never failed to let me know that to him I was nothing but a selfish self-satisfied brat. Most days I blew him off and ignored him. But something about being back here again a year later, still feeling unsure and somewhat pathetic for throwing myself at Patrice, made the whole thing sting. Without responding, I sighed and put the phone down, trying to figure out what to do about Patrice. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do now.

Did he want me to get dressed and leave?

Since I’d barged into his house in a fit of rage, fucked him and then took a nap in his bed without asking, I’d probably worn out my welcome.

I turned around, trying to get myself out of the bed, and spoke while I still had my back turned to him, not wanting to see the relief in his face when I told him I was leaving.

“I’m going to head out now. Sorry I fell asleep.” I tried to laugh but gave up. This could just be awkward and weird. I didn’t fucking care. But as I was about to stand, Patrice touched my shoulder.

“Why don’t you try to go back to sleep? You looked so tired.”