I could fuck who I wanted (not that I did) just as long as they were nameless and harmless. If I actually developed feelings for someone, the silent understanding was that I told Georgia.

I might have found this even bleaker than my life if I had any intention to have feelings for anyone.

Since I did not, it wasn’t a problem.

In the case of Nick, I had no idea what was happening. That was part of the business she didn’t share with me. Although part of the unpleasantness of our conversation was me sharing I would very much rather my sister not put a hit out on the man who had dishonestly won my heart, but he’d done it all the same.

This was taken as a weakness in my allegiance.

I said no further to my sister on the subject.

I’d made my warnings to Nick. He could take care of himself.

Nevertheless, I sent an anonymous letter to his brother at his nightclub, sharing that the danger was still very real and measures should be taken.

That was all I allowed myself to do mostly because it was all I could do.

As I was not of that world anymore, I’d heard nothing. But watching the news and reading the paper daily did not share that a young, vital, handsome man had been found dead.

So Nick was taking care of himself.

That was good.

In the four months since Nick walked out of my house, I heard nothing from him and saw nothing of him, which proved my assertions during our heinous final conversation true.

I did not believe because there was nothing to believe.

I had no earthly idea but my guess would be that a man who loved a woman would not walk away from her and not look back.

So there it was.

And in the four months since Nick walked out of my house, as I had a great deal of time, I spent a majority of that time wondering how I ever believed in the first place.

Quite frankly, there wasn’t anything about me to love.

I was quite attractive, but deep down, people didn’t love looks.

They loved senses of humor. They loved personality. They loved manner. They loved someone who loved dogs, like they did. Or they loved someone who was passionate about issues, like they were.

Whatever.

There had to be substance to a person to be a person who could be loved.

There was nothing to me. There’d never been anything to me.

Now Nick, he was a person you could love. He teased great and he cooked great and he kissed great and when you spoke, he listened like there was nothing on earth he wanted more to do. He made me laugh. He made me feel. He made me believe there was something to me.