I love you. But I can’t help you. She said this like a doctor conveying a fatal prognosis. And I gotta protect myself.

I wanted to hug her, but I couldn’t move. I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t manage to do that either. I think you should go have your shower, she said.

I brushed my hair out of my eyes and whispered yeah.

I could hear Paul reappearing through the front door, struggling with a large box, but neither Ashley nor I paid him any attention. As she looked at me I wondered—did she not see how far I had come? How hard I had worked to claw my life back? Was she just going to write me off, then, because I wasn’t ready to adopt her version of events? I wanted to tell her—I am trying my best, Ash, every single day, to forget what I felt, what I heard, what I experienced, and live a normal life again. As Paul walked back outside, Ashley started for the door as well, but then hesitated. She stood there for a moment, then turned back to me, and gave me a hug. It took me completely by surprise. It was tentative at first, but then strengthened, until she was squeezing me with an almost aching intensity, and I was doing the same. Her hair was in my mouth. I felt the moisture of her face on my neck. The heat of our bodies pressed together. She pulled away and flashed me a look. A look that said—there is love. There is still love. And then she walked out, leaving me alone in the living room.

Paul returned after a minute and dropped another box down in the front hallway.

That’s the first carload, he said, straightening up. I’ll be back with the rest in forty.

I promised I would be ready to help on his return and tightened the sash around my bathrobe as I crossed towards him.

You better, he said, with mock seriousness. His armpits were damp. I could smell his aftershave.

It’s good to have you back, I said.

A slightly wistful look passed over his face. Hopefully, he said.

And then, for some reason, I chose that moment to remind him that I had therapy in the morning. He told me that he already knew that. And we have ours together on Tuesday, he said.

Sorry, I forgot we went over this. I also have an interview with the library on Monday, did I tell you that?

Oh good. No, you didn’t.

I told him that I wasn’t holding my breath. I suspected too many staff probably knew of me there. But I figured it was good to start getting myself back out there and looking. He suggested we talk more about it after he got back.

For sure, sorry, I said, batting the admin away with my hand.