Alec sighed. “Management on macro and micro scales.”

With that, Cora had no idea what to say anymore. “Ah.”

Back to silence. And slow eating. The waiter took their plates away in practised perfection and returned a few minutes later for their dessert orders. Alec checked his phone before dropping it back in his pocket. When he sipped his drink, his eyes were anywhere but on her.

“So…” Cora made one last ditch attempt. “Where will you stay?”

The thud of his hands dropping to the table made her blink in surprise as for the first time in ten minutes, he looked her in the eye. “Jesus, Cora, what’s with the interrogation?”

Cora sucked in a surprised breath. It had only taken thirty minutes this time. She tried to ignore the burn that crept into her cheeks. “It was just a question.”

“Well maybe I don’t feel like explaining every detail of my life to you.”

“Maybe I just wanted to have a conversation with you?” Cora picked up her glass, her fingers trembling slightly. “But apparently you don’t know how to do that anymore.”

A beat of silence.

Alec cleared his throat. “Apparently we don’t know how to do that anymore.”

They stared at each other for a moment. Finally, Cora broke the eye contact, the feeling that she wouldn’t win this one crawling up her spine. She never won. How it would play out danced in front of her eyes: Alec’s further anger, the guilt, the way he’d twist each word she said around and around. She went back to her drink.

They continued together in uncomfortable silence. Dessert didn’t improve the situation. Prickly heat danced along Cora’s arms and along her back, the urge to scratch her skin difficult to repress. That band was back, wrapped around her chest. Her breaths were strange and uneven. Her gaze jolted around the room, catching sight of relaxed, normal couples. Did any of them feel like this? Like they were stuck on pause, something significant missing that would actually make them move forward?

For their first date, Alec had taken Cora to the ballet. The dance was one she had never seen, and now she couldn’t even remember its name. The information was buried under layers of other useless facts more important than the case at work she’d left behind that afternoon, yet completely unattainable. Afterwards, he’d touched her as if she were made of glass, as if she would shatter under his boiling passion—his fingers at her jaw and his thumb leaving an imprint she was sure would feel like love. His gaze, intense and blue, never left hers when he made her come undone, as easily as if he could read her.

“What ballet did you take me to, our first date?” she asked.

Again, Alec didn’t look up from his cake, ordered before she could say she didn’t want any. The richness of it made her feel ill.

“God, I don’t remember, Cora.” When he looked up and caught her expression, something around his eyes softened. Crinkles appeared in the corners, ever so slight ones, but enough to make that band in her loosen. “Giselle, I think.”