Perhaps it was jet lag, but as soon as he was gone, I felt shattered. The knowledge that he was amoral and dangerous gave me no solace as I sobbed at the thought that I’d never make love to him again, or see him smile and call me his own girl, or make him burst into that wonderful rumbly laugh.

I thought of all his kindnesses to me, all his attentions, the gifts that were always so perfectly suited, the way he treated me as if I was the most fascinating person he’d ever met, the way he made me feel beautiful, smart, witty, strong, desirable.

I thought about the way he looked at me when his dark eyes opened in the morning, as if I was what he wanted to see most in the world.

But catching him with Cricket had proved that it was all a lie. So why did I feel as if someone had carved away a piece of me so deep that I would never heal from the wound?

I was too upset to sleep so I threw myself into my fauxoir. I began rereading Othello and thinking about how I could use themes of jealousy and manipulation in Don Pedro’s zombie story.

I crashed at some point and when I awoke I was bent over in a chair, the hard edge of the flash drive jabbing into my waist. I straightened up, pulled it out of my pocket, and tossed it into a dish filled with barrettes, makeup, and pens.

The sun rose, staining the horizon the same vermilion as my chaise, when Wil phoned. “It’s night here and I’m missing you. Do you still want to see me?”

“Absolutely!” I said in a voice more cheerful than I felt.

“Good, I’ve booked a flight and I’ll arrive midmorning tomorrow,” he said.

“That’s wonderful, Wil! Bring a wet suit.”

“Ooh, kinky.”

“I meant for surfing. It’s cold and gray, so you should be okay with waterproof sunblock.”

“Awesome. I’ll buy gear there. One of my bros has a surf shop, and I’ll be hanging with him.”

“I thought you were staying with me.”

“For a few nights, but I don’t want to impose the whole time. You’ll get tired of me.”

Which is what Ian had predicted. “How could I?” I asked. “Wil, I told Ian about us.”

“How did he react?”

“Very well, considering,” I said, my voice catching a little. “I’m sure he’s got hundreds of replacements lined up.”

“I can’t believe I nicked the Dark Lord’s girl!”

“Um, Wil, please don’t laugh about it. It wasn’t easy for me.”

“Sorry,” he said. “I love you, Milagro.”