“So, what do you mean? You didn’t see me watching?” The possibility that she’d admitted to something excruciating when she hadn’t needed to was somehow worse, in that moment, than the thing itself. Ruby felt a wave of nausea.

“Oh yeah, I did see you. But …”

Panic set in. “I have to go.”

“Don’t.”

Ruby looked down. He’d grabbed her hand.

“It’s my fault,” he said. “I was going to apologize to you. I should draw the blinds. It never occurred to me. I guess I didn’t expect anyone to be up at that time in the morning, and your place has the only window that overlooks mine. It’s always been empty, so I didn’t realize …”

She couldn’t stop staring at his hand on hers. Anything to avoid looking at his face. He followed her eyes and let go of her then, as if he didn’t realize he’d grabbed her in the first place.

“They said, when I moved in, it had been empty. Some kind of council computer mistake. I haven’t been there all that long.”

“When did you move in?” he asked.

She sat down on the edge of the bench. “A few months ago. But I was working full time up until recently, so you won’t have seen me around during the day.”

His face had a shadow of stubble, not the designer kind—more of the slightly unkempt kind, as if he probably shaved, as a rule, but hadn’t for a day or so. Then there was his scent. Soap and citrus and something almost animal under it all. It reminded her of how her rosin smelled when she applied it to the horsehair of her bow.

“I should be more discreet. I would never have left the blinds up … If I knew you were …”

Their eyes met and the tension broke. Both of them burst out laughing.

“I shouldn’t be awake anyway,” Ruby said. “But I’ve been having trouble sleeping, as it goes.”

He studied her face, suddenly serious. “That’s a terrible thing, you know. Not sleeping can really screw with your mental health.”

Don’t I know it, she thought. “Why are you awake at that time, then?” she said. “It was always the early hours of the morning when I saw you.”

He sighed. “Boring reasons. I go to bed early. I like to do yoga just before the dawn. Not to sound too much like a hippie, but it’s … magical. The whole world is asleep, even the birds, and there I am, totally at one with body, mind, and nature. Oh. I do sound like a total hippie, don’t I?”

She laughed a little, then waited. One of them would have to mention it sooner or later.

“What?” said Gregor.

“Oh, nothing really. I thought you were going to say that the baby woke you up. Your wife must be tired, too …”