“Jesus,” she said. “You gave me a heart attack.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, holding up his hands. “I saw the light. I thought it was you.”

They both looked at it, a small lamp of frosted glass, which she’d left on an end table by the sofa. She crossed over to it and blew it out, and for a moment all was dark. And then he saw, at the end of the hall she’d emerged from, soft light spilling from an open door.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

He could just make her out, the line of her shoulder, the side of her head. “I couldn’t sleep,” he said. He took a step toward her. “I saw the light, and I figured … I just wanted to talk to you.”

“You should go,” she said.

“But Alma—”

“What do we have to talk about?”

He wished he could see her face, because her voice wasn’t cold. There was something gentle in it, willing—he wasn’t sure. It was enough to encourage him. “Last night,” he said. “What happened…”

“Nothing happened,” she said. “It was a mistake, I get it. It didn’t happen. We don’t have to discuss it, for Christ’s sake.”

“Alma, please.” He came closer to her. She didn’t move away. “I’m…” Not sorry. Or she would scream. “I acted like an idiot last night,” he said. “I mean after. I shouldn’t have acted like that. I was—I wasn’t in my right mind. I was stupid.”

He waited, but she said nothing to this.

“I thought about you all day,” he said. “I couldn’t think of anything else. And tonight, at dinner—I wanted so badly, so badly to…” To do what, he didn’t know, all words failed him. Still she said nothing. “Alma…”

“Henry,” she said gently, “you should really go.”

“I don’t want to go,” he said.

She made a halfhearted sound of annoyance, but there was nothing more to say. He knew with every nerve what he wanted, and there was no need to put it into words. He stepped closer and took her hips and pulled her toward him, felt her crossed arms against his chest, but after the slightest resistance she uncrossed them and put them around him. She rested her head on his shoulder, and they held each other. He was shaking. “You should think very carefully about what you’re doing,” she said. He lifted her chin and found her lips, and she sighed and seemed to collapse inward, giving in. He gripped her behind, held the back of her head. She bit his lip. He kissed her nose, her chin, tasted the salt on her neck, took her earlobe into his mouth, smelled the sun in her hair. And then she pulled away and took his hand and led him down the hall, toward the lighted doorway.