I must have fallen asleep at some point, everything in me just shutting down. It feels as though hours have passed and the day is gone. Deciding that I have to face Ezra and the world sometime, I leave the cocoon of blankets I’m wrapped in and go back out into the main part of the apartment.

I’m surprised to see that the sun is starting to go down. Ezra is moving around the kitchen to a soundtrack of jazz. I slip onto a stool at the island, and he slides me a glass of red wine.

“I’m sure you could use that,” he says, pausing in the cutting of an onion to survey my face.

“Thanks,” I say, before taking a sip of wine and then another. “What are you making?”

“Just a couple of omelets.” He brushes the chopped onion into a frying pan bubbling with butter. “I didn’t think you’d be very hungry and neither am I, but we should probably eat something.”

“You’re right. I’m not.” An ache starts in my heart and travels down into my belly and legs, then up my arms and neck until it’s taken over my whole body.

I drink down more wine, trying to drown my thoughts and focus on the mundane tasks he’s performing in front of me. I watch his hands as he breaks eggs into a metal bowl, then whisks them into a sunny yellow batter. His brow is furrowed in concentration, his mouth open just slightly. I know in this moment that I love him. Truly love him. I also know there’s an uncrossable chasm of history, lies, secrets, and betrayal that sits between us.

“So, I guess we’re brother and sister,” I say, trying to infuse some humor into this messed-up situation.

“Ah, no, we’re not,” he’s quick to say, not even missing a beat in his omelet making. “I was adopted, remember? We don’t share a bit of blood. And thank god for that, because otherwise I’d be in love with my sister.” He visibly shudders.

His proclamation of love, even though I was only just thinking it myself, catches me off guard, his words breaking through the thick skin of my heart. I start to cry. He moves the frying pan off the heat and rushes to me.

“It’s going to be okay, June. We’ll get past all of this, I promise.” He wipes away my tears and holds me to him.

I reach up and pull his face to mine, kissing him deeply, letting my desire for him push away all other emotions. He returns it equally. We move quickly to the bedroom and waste no time stripping away our clothes, coming together with the desperation of two people who have lost too much and are on the brink of losing each other.