“You could have called.”

“I didn’t think you would answer the phone,” he said.

He was right, I wouldn’t have. I shrugged, stepped past him, and unlocked the door. He followed me inside. In the kitchen I drank a glass of water and filled it again from the tap. I splashed water on my face.

“So, you’re here. What do you want?” I said.

“I missed you,” he said. “I wanted to apologize for the way I’ve handled things.”

“What things? You mean cheating on me? And dumping me? To go back with the girl you said was too self-involved to be in a relationship. Too immature. Y’all had nothing in common. That’s what you told me.”

“I’m sorry, really I am. You’re great. I love you. I wish this had never happened.”

“Tired of her already?” I said.

“It’s not that.”

“Does she know you’re here?”

“Actually, no.”

“Huh. Interesting.”

“Charlotte, I realize you’re mad. You have a right to be.”

“I’m not mad,” I said. I tried to call up my feelings when he’d first told me about her, and when I saw them together. I had been hurt, and yes, angry. It was only last week but it seemed so long ago. I didn’t feel much now. Sad, maybe.

He picked up a bracelet from the coffee table and played with it, spinning it around his finger. It was Audrey’s, she must have left it. I had such a hard time imagining the two of them, Michael and Audrey, occupying the same world. I wondered what he’d think of me if I told him about her. About me and her. I blushed. Suddenly I couldn’t stand him being in my apartment.

“Put that down,” I said. “Let’s go outside.”

We wandered down the block and turned on Binz, retracing my jogging route. It was a relief to see him, in a way. He was familiar, even if he was an asshole. He was part of my regular life, before all this Danielle shit. I felt almost normal.

We went on, past the corner store and the chicken place and the Jamaican restaurant, and gradually the cracked sidewalks gave way to newer pavement. Landscaped shrubs and lawns replaced the patchy grass and garbage. On the next block lights illuminated the children’s museum’s bright cartoon caryatids. I lit a cigarette.

“Look, I made a mistake,” he said. “It’s not working out with her.”

“That was quick. Hardly worth all this drama, really.”

“I know,” he said.

“Is she still too immature for you? Or maybe you liked fucking her in secret. It’s not fun now she’s your actual girlfriend?”

“It’s not that. It’s you. I can’t stop thinking about you. The other night at the bar, seeing you—”

“Look, I’m sorry about that,” I said. “I wasn’t at my best.” I didn’t tell him the rest, getting pulled over, all that. It seemed so long ago.

“It was my fault,” Michael said. “We shouldn’t have gone there.”

“Why not?”