He ran a finger under his collar. His forehead was shiny, and the stress cracks around his mouth and eyes had deepened.

He finished the third vodka, stood, and aimed his bulk back at the kitchen.

“Thirsty,” I said.

He froze, wheeled. Glared. “Look who’s talking. Your eyes. You gonna tell me you’ve been dry?”

“This morning I have been,” I said.

“Congratulations. Where’s Robin?” he demanded. “What the hell’s going on with you two?”

“Well,” I said, “my mail’s been interesting.”

“Yeah, yeah. Where is she, Alex?”

Words filled my head but logjammed somewhere in my throat. My breath got short. We stared at each other.

He laughed first. “Show you mine if you show me yours?”

I told him the basics.

“So it was an opportunity for her,” he said. “She’ll get it out of her system, and come back.”

“Maybe,” I said.

“It happened before, Alex.”

Thanks for the memory, pal. I said, “This time I can’t help thinking it’s more. She kept the offer from me for two weeks.”

“You were busy,” he said.

“I don’t think that’s it. The way she looked at me in Paris. The way she left. The fault line might have shifted too much.”

“C’mon,” he said, “how about some optimism? You’re always preaching to me about that.”

“I don’t preach. I suggest.”

“Then I suggest you shave and scrape the crud from your eyes and get into clean clothes, stop ignoring her calls, and try to work things out, for God’s sake. You guys are like . . .”

“Like what?”

“I was gonna say an old married couple.”

“But we’re not,” I said. “Married. All these years together and neither of us took the initiative to make it legal. What does that say?”

“You didn’t need the paperwork. Believe me, I know all about that.”

He and Rick had been together even longer than Robin and I.

“Would you if you could?” I said.

“Probably,” he said. “Maybe. What’s the big issue between you guys, anyway?”

“It’s complicated,” I said. “And I haven’t been avoiding her. We just keep missing each other.”

“Try harder.”

“She’s on the road, Milo.”

“Try harder, anyway, goddammit.”

“What’s with you?” I said.

“Acute disillusionment. On top of all the chronic disillusionment the job deals me.” He clapped a hand on my shoulder. “I need some things in my life to be constant, pal. As in you guys. I want Robin and you to be okay for my peace of mind, okay? Is that too much to ask? Yeah, yeah, it’s self-centered, but tough shit.”

What can you say to that?

I sat there, and he swiped at his brow. More sweat leaked through. He looked thoroughly miserable. Crazily enough, I felt guilty.