She knew her intense mental and physical exhaustion was amplifying her emotions. She’d probably have more hope and optimism about this situation tomorrow. But right now, she felt monumentally sad. Sad her father had suffered, and she hadn’t been there with him. Sad he had to sleep alone in a hospital room. And sad she had to be alone in her house tonight. Not even her dog was here to greet her. She was even sad about Jana, that their mutual support of each other hadn’t lasted. And she was sad that even after everything she had done to keep him, she’d still lost Rohan.

But this is what she signed up for, right? She deserved this loneliness. Just like Rohan said. She’d rested her own happiness on her ability to control others, and when they didn’t do what she wanted, she was left with nothing.

Kamila needed to stop this line of thinking. She had no desire to let existential dread take hold now. She had to stay strong for Dad. He was in a hospital bed right now, probably in the early stages of a major depressive episode, and Kamila was only thinking about her own loneliness. Rohan was right—she was selfish.

As she walked into her house, she noticed the kitchen light was on. Strange. She never forgot to turn off the lights. When she looked at the stairs, she saw a coat hanging off the banister. A familiar charcoal overcoat.

Rohan’s. She looked back at the shoe mat near the door, and sure enough, the leather loafers he’d been wearing at his party were there. She went into the kitchen to look out the window. Her own car was there—not Rohan’s. He’d brought her car home. Then stayed?

Kamila took the stairs up two at a time and went straight to the guest room. It was, of course, dark, but with the light from the hallway, she could clearly make out his sleeping form. Remarkable. After everything she had said and everything he had said, he was here. Why?

He didn’t stir as she watched him sleep. It was slightly voyeuristic to watch the normally solid and starched Rohan softened by sleep, but if he was going to let himself into her house to sleep like some sort of corporate executive Goldilocks, then she figured she was allowed to look. But not for too long—that was creepy. She snuck out and changed into flannel pants and a T-shirt, brushed her teeth, and washed her face.

And then returned to the guest room instead of her own room. He was like a siren calling to her—she was drawn almost against her will. Certainly against her better judgment. She sat on the edge of the bed.