I shouldn’t have snapped at him, she thought, as she gripped the sink in the guest bathroom in Ethic’s palace. She cleared the steam from the mirror in front of her, looking at herself. She was wrapped in a plush towel, her hair was soaking wet, shrinking her long curls up to her shoulders. Alani could see the exhaustion in her face. She had so much on her shoulders, so much sorrow, so much weight that it was almost intolerable. She walked back into the guest room and pulled open the drawers, hoping to find a clean shirt she could sleep in. She pulled one of the neatly-folded, Oxford shirts from the drawer and put it on. She couldn’t help but grow jealous of whoever had laundered it. They had taken the time to spray his signature scent onto it and she wondered if it was the woman she had seen him with at the diner. The scent of his cologne surrounded her, as she pulled the collar to her nose and inhaled it. She hoped he wouldn’t mind. She doubted he would. Ethic had been the most accommodating person she had ever met, and it surprised her because she knew he was anything but friendly. In fact, he was downright guarded. I’m the asshole, she thought. Alani had asked him to leave. Had put him out of a room in the house he owned, even though distance from him was the last thing she wanted. Alani didn’t know how she was supposed to manage this new relationship she had with Ethic. He had come to her in the most confusing and torrential time of her life. I should have heard him out, she thought. She crept out of the room, as quietly as she could, not wanting to wake his children. She had to see his face, she had to feel the rise and fall of his chest against hers as he hugged her. She needed to feel that pulse he sent through her like shock pads to her heart. He revived her when she was circling the drain. She went from room to room, in search of him, wanting to apologize, hoping he would give in to her need for him. Death surrounded her. It suffocated her and drowned her in suffering. A bullet to the head would have been more civilized than this. Besides suicide, Ethic was her only relief. She needed more than a hug, she needed his tongue against hers, his body connected to hers, inside of hers, so she could feel all the healing he had to give. Alani was sick with loss and Ethic was the only remedy that worked. She noticed a door on the first floor was slightly ajar, and she slowly descended the steps into the basement. It was like she could sense that he was down there. Her entire body reacted, as she drew near. When she saw him, she stopped, and her breath caught in her throat, as she witnessed God’s art at work.