And yet: her fault, for letting it go so far. Drunk on loneliness, grief; relishing the comfort of such closeness, of knowing he was lonely, too. She let it go too far! Him saying, “I swear I’m in love with you. Marry me instead.” A shock! Her body, beyond her control, everything spinning, him on top of her, pinning her. Could she have thrown him off her? Why didn’t she try again to reach that lamp? Senseless! So afraid to hurt his feelings! His gravelly whisper in her ear. His warm breath. Letting it go so far!

Until finally all she could do was bear his weight. He would do what he would.

It was too late but to bear the consequences.

But when it was over: horror. That she had lain back and borne it! Not voicing the objection that she had felt in her soul. Not even screaming from the pain. Just bearing it! Unforgivable.

She could never marry Harry now. She couldn’t stand for him to know what she had done.

The minute JJ’s breathing had slowed, she’d wriggled out from under him and left him sleeping, dressing herself with trembling hands, tiptoeing out of his room, into the bathroom to try to clean herself up. She couldn’t look at her reflection in the mirror; the sight of the blood made tears come to her eyes. When the worst was taken care of, she went across the hall into the guest room. Harry had shown her there when they had arrived, just last night. He had kissed her at the threshold of the door and bid her good night. Thinking of it now, as she packed her suitcase, made her want to choke.

“Anne?”

Anne looked up from her sweaters and saw JJ standing there in the door, leaning on his crutches, the wrapped stump of his leg protruding from his shorts, his clean T-shirt a bright white in the lamplight. His hair was mussed and his eyes were narrow. He was pouting like a hurt child.

“Anne, what are you doing?” he said.

“I’m leaving.” She blinked to keep her tears at bay, smoothing her gray sweater atop the others in her suitcase. Her whole body was trembling.

“Anne,” he said, coming closer, swinging his weight on his crutches. “Don’t leave. Please.”

She stood absolutely still, gazing down at her hands pressing flat against the folded sweater in her suitcase. She had already removed her engagement ring and put it on the bedside table, and her hand looked empty and sad without it.

“Look, Anne,” JJ said. “I’m sorry. I really am. But I’m not sorry, too, because I meant everything I said.”

She took a deep breath; it took everything she had not to start crying. “You did not.”

“If I didn’t, then why don’t I want you to go, Anne?” His voice was frantic now.

“I don’t know.”