After they both came, Lance wouldn’t let her go. He held her close, held her tight and said nothing. He lay back on the bed and brought her down with him. Exhausted and spent she fell asleep on his chest almost immediately. He was still inside her.

Nora woke up a few minutes later. Or maybe it was an hour. Who knew? She didn’t know and didn’t care. All she knew was that Lance lay next to her in bed where he belonged. She bent her head to kiss him, but paused when she heard a sound.

Someone was at her door.

Lance stirred and she kissed him.

“Stay here,” she whispered. “Sleep. It’s an order.”

He flipped over in her bed and fell back to sleep. Poor thing, she’d worn him out. Nora found her grey silk bathrobe and knotted it around her waist. She walked downstairs and without looking out the window, she opened the front door.

“It’s Sunday,” she said. “Isn’t this the one day of the week you have to work?”

“You know I always take the afternoon off between Masses,” Søren said. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” she said to Søren who stood on her porch wearing jeans, his black leather motorcycle jacket, and holding his helmet in his hand. “I wasn’t even there when that guy broke in.”

“I know,” Søren said.

“So you’re here because...?”

“Do I need a reason?”

“I broke up with you, so yes, you do need a reason.”

“You were in my bed last night.”

“I’m in my own bed today,” she said.

Søren looked over her shoulder. Nora closed her eyes and winced. She knew exactly what Søren was seeing. Two open beers on the coffee table.

“You still drink Achel Blonde,” Søren said.

“It’s good stuff,” she said.

“I know,” he said. “I’m the one who introduced you to it.”

He met her eyes and Nora refused to look away.

“You should go,” she said. “If someone sees you here...”

“Of course,” he said, his tone even. “I see that you’re safe. That’s all I needed to see. I’ll leave you to your guest.”

He turned to leave and Nora stepped out onto the porch.

“Søren?”

“Eleanor, it’s forty degrees out. Put on shoes if you’re going to stand outside.”

“I’m an adult,” she reminded him. “I’m not fifteen anymore.”

“An adult would wear shoes in forty-degree weather.”

She stared at him and shook her head.

“You...” she said. “You are infuriating.”

“Me? Because I don’t want you getting frostbite?”

“Because you will not move on.”

“I will when you do,” Søren said. “And don’t pretend you’ve moved on simply because you’re sleeping with someone else tonight. My housekeeper comes tomorrow. I have to change the sheets before she cleans my bedroom. There are stains on them. Yours and mine. I haven’t had to do that since the last time you spent the night with me.”

“Last time you called me and asked me to come to you.”