Catching sight of her gazebo, she felt her heart balloon until it strained against her ribs. Her original drawing was now fully encircled. To his earlier sketches, he’d added the bench, the railing, and the octagonal window to the sky. The paper quivered between them. “Jonas…” Funny, she didn’t remember swallowing sandpaper, but her throat seemed freshly coated with grit. “Just calm down a second and talk to me. Look, I’m sorry—”

“No, I’m sorry,” he snapped, “for believing you had more imagination than you do.” He thrust the paper into her hands. “Enjoy your gazebo.”

Then he stormed from the garage and out of her life forever. Like a snowman in July, she melted until she was no more sentient than two buttons and a mushy carrot in a lukewarm puddle—which was good because water felt no pain.

Lightning flickered, and rain fell in buckets. A chilly wind gusted through the open garage door, spraying her curled-up form with stinging drops she only half registered. The deluge overwhelmed the gutters and splattered the gravel around the spout with a sound like grapeshot.

A black-and-yellow spider made a perfect web between two legs of the workbench. In the middle of the web, it spun a line of zig-zagged silk that to Tessa’s shell-shocked brain almost seemed to form a word. A fly occasionally alit on her legs. After a while, it didn’t return. Maybe the spider completed her web in time.

The steady downpour echoed until her ears ached. She couldn’t recall such a rainy summer. How did the clouds have water left to give? If she waited long enough, maybe the sky would collapse like a rain-puddled tent pulled down by its own weight. If she could just stay perfectly still, she might not have to feel or think anything ever again

Afternoon surrendered to evening, and evening fell to night. Her body stiffened against the concrete, and her left arm prickled with pins and needles. Maybe she dozed. Maybe she imagined the spider. At a certain point, she couldn’t see the web at all.

The automatic outdoor lights tripped. She sat and rubbed her eyes. Delirious with hunger and misery, she was seized with a sudden obsession: did the gazebo leak? Jonas prided himself on the quality of his work. When she saw him next, he would want to know.

She streaked out of the garage and across the sodden grass, but when she finally clomped into the gazebo, the world was too dark to see. She rested her cheek against her own initials and let the trickle of rain wet her face. When she began to cry, she couldn’t feel her tears.

Now everything really is ruined.

Was Jonas right? Had she been playing with them? Leading on both men? Impossible. Jonas wasn’t exactly forthcoming. Until yesterday’s picnic, she had no idea how much he cared.