“Never trust a junkie, I guess,” Dustin added in an attempt to be jovial. He followed his brother and yawned, suddenly tired now that his belly was full. Nicholas pulled out a ring of keys from his jeans and handed them to Dustin, gesturing upward. “My room’s upstairs. Can’t beat the commute. Bathroom’s in the hallway but be quiet in there because the guy next to the toilet is a real dickhead if you wake him up. He’s got the morning shift here, so he’s gotta get up at four thirty.”

Dustin grabbed his paper plate and tossed it in the trash can on the side wall, trying to decide what he should do. He had texted his dad that he’d be home in the morning, so it was not like anyone was waiting up for him. Dustin took the keys from his brother and pulled out his wallet. Nicholas shook his head. “On me, little bro. Go get some shut-eye, you’ll buy me breakfast in the morning when I get up. Someplace that doesn’t serve tacos.”

Dustin had fallen asleep within minutes of curling up on the couch, his heartbreak covering him like a blanket. He didn’t even remember hearing his brother come in several hours later.

The next morning, Dustin stood up from the couch and crossed over to the window to stare out at the soot-stained brick wall across the air shaft. It was a new day, and no one was more thankful that yesterday was over than he was. He thought about whether he would tell his brother about Kimmie over breakfast. He doubted his brother would be sympathetic to his plight, but Dustin didn’t care. It wasn’t comfort he was after. Dustin only wanted to purge himself of any remaining feelings for her, and then he never wanted to think about Kimmie again.

XXVII

The debris was cleared from the train tracks after twenty minutes, and the wheels slowly came to life and began to inch forward. Anna was relieved to be on her way again, but at the same time felt sharp pinpricks of anxiety, unsure of how she felt about where she was heading. She had taken the train to Greenwich thousands of times in her life, but this was the only trip she could remember where she was brimming with dread. Funny how one night can change everything, she thought to herself, but quickly followed it with a different reflection. Nothing is different. I’ll soon be at the same station where I always get off. My boyfriend will be waiting for me ready to apologize for our tiff with hot coffee and a chocolate croissant. He’ll drive me home and my dogs will be waiting in the foyer windows, their wet noses smudging the glass. I’ll have to brace myself against the door so they won’t knock me over in their excitement.