Cory began throwing on his clothes. A bunch of keys fell out of his trouser pocket, and he snatched it up in his fist as if it mustn’t be seen; as if it were the clue to some profane secret. The air was so thick with things unsaid that I found it an effort to breathe. I wanted to know what was going on inside his head, but I couldn’t have coveted him so vehemently if I’d understood him the way I understood—say—Tom. My feeling for Cory was piercing and pure; it hadn’t been muddied by friendship and long familiarity.

I reached for my jeans and put them on cautiously, in case he was provoked by the whisper of denim and the jingle of a belt. He turned as I was fastening the buckle and let out a shuddering sigh.

“Freya, forgive me. I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“For being such a . . .” He spread his arms wide in a helpless shrug. “None of this is your fault. I know you have to leave me now—”

“I won’t. I won’t leave you. I’ll stay.”

He stared. After a moment he cupped his hands and held them out, like a child expecting a gift. Warily I placed my own hands inside them, doubtful of making the correct gesture. He didn’t throw them away but he didn’t grasp them either; he just kept staring, as if I were the one acting all opaque.

“But you’ll lose your job.”

I shrugged—and if I also quaked slightly, it was with triumph as well as fear. I was at the wheel of a car, driving too hard and too fast down a winding road.

“So what? I don’t care. It’s nothing. It’s just a dead-end, pedestrian job—sending emails and answering the phone for other people.”

All those unblinking screens and trilling phones, the strip lighting, the polystyrene cups, and the brilliant white walls with no windows.

Cory closed his hands slowly around mine.

“Never mind me,” I said. The decision was made and I was impatient of further discussion. “What about Diana? When will you know more from the hospital? We could phone for a taxi and go to her now.”

“Wait . . .” Cory’s tone of voice was effortful—as it had been before—but this time it wasn’t anger he was struggling to suppress. “I need to get this straight in my head. You’re going to give up your job so that you can stay here with me?”

“Yes.”

“Freya, are you sure?”

I nodded.

“Yes, yes. I’m sure.”

He pulled me forward, releasing my hands only to wrap me tightly in his arms. A minute ago it had bothered me that he was fully clothed while I was only half dressed, but it stopped mattering as soon as we were bound together.

“Thank you.”