It was a Monday that lived up to the standard of Mondays.

It felt like she’d just fallen asleep by the time her alarm went off. Normally when she woke, she had to squint her eyes when she drew back the curtains because the sun was so bright. Today, however, there was no sun and no trace of light coming from outside. Confused, she opened her blinds and looked out to see a day as dark as evening. Rain streamed down from the gloomy heavens.

It matched her mood.

Lillian sighed and slouched. All her energy had gone. Her eyes felt dry and puffy, and her body was weaker than she remembered it being in a long time. All her efforts to keep her emotions together and be firm in this breakup had washed down the drain.

She drifted through her morning routine with almost no clue of what she was doing. She’d turned into a robot of some sort, not really living but rather existing. More like a zombie—without eating the brains, of course.

Feed the cats.

Eat breakfast.

Take a shower.

Dry hair.

Text Claire to confirm our appointment.

It was only when she realized her first appointment of the morning was with Claire, the client who was adorably nice but a lot to handle in more than small doses, she couldn’t help but let out a frustrated yell and beat her hands on the bed like a child. “This can’t be happening! Everything’s falling to shit!”

It felt good to yell, as if the burden was being relieved for a little while. But when she quieted she heard the stillness in the rest of the house, and the sense of being alone hit her like a ton of bricks.

Now’s not the time to let your feelings get the best of you, Lillian, she told herself, doing a few jumping jacks before going into the bathroom for her shower. You have work to do. You’re an independent woman. You run a successful business. You’ve made your life great.

Despite all these affirmations she kept repeating to herself, she had a hard time telling the difference between the shower stream and her tears.

She checked the time as soon as she got out. Good, I’m not late. That would have really made this a pathetic morning. For the first time since she woke, she dared to peer into the mirror. She looked better than she felt, but that wasn’t saying much.

“Where are my eye drops?” she asked her cats, running through the house in search of the tiny bottle. The cats followed her with their eyes as she ran back and forth, opening all the drawers within reach even though she knew the eye drops weren’t in any of them. It wasn’t even eight-thirty in the morning and already she was dangerously close to her emotional capacity for the day.

She let out another yell that sounded more like a loud whimper, and flopped onto the bed. “You have got to calm down, Lillian!” She rubbed her eyes, trying to center herself. “Claire, in all her sweet, overbearing, nonstop-talking glory, needs you to be there to look at her binder chock-full of ideas for her home that she’ll probably just forget tomorrow.”

Even after working with Claire for over a year, Lillian couldn’t decide whether she loved the woman or couldn’t stand being around her. Probably a mix of both. But even so, getting the focus off herself, knowing that she needed to channel the little strength she had inside her today because someone else needed her, was enough to motivate her to roll off the bed and get to work.

Every step she took felt like she was walking through a bog. She’d eaten breakfast, gotten enough nutrients for the morning, taken her shower, and done her makeup just like she always did on a Monday morning before meeting clients. Usually not getting enough sleep wasn’t this harsh on her.

You had a really freaking emotional day yesterday. Take it easy. Eat the snacks Claire gives you. She knows your trigger foods better than you, probably. There will be no getting sick today. No flare-ups allowed.

Perhaps today Claire was the one she needed to see most. Perhaps Lillian needed that kind of overactive energy to bring her back to reality and move on from the rough argument with Cayden.

How did it end up going so badly? she cried silently in the car. The swishing back and forth of her windshield wipers was hypnotic, and only enticed her to fall asleep while driving. A thousand ideas of how she could have better handled the situation swirled through her mind. She heard her own voice being more rational and practical and considering him before herself when, in fact, she’d done the opposite last night.

She knew she’d handled it badly. Not that he’d handled it great either, not even discussing her worries to bring the fight to a close. He’d just climbed into his car and left for the airport. What does he even do with his car all that time, anyway? Does he pay for parking for a month? A nasty grimace smeared across her face, and she glared at the road in front of her. I’m sure Janine pays for all his expenses. She flew him out there in the first place. The slightest thought of Janine turned her heart black.

The rain made everything slow down, much to her dismay. She didn’t want to be stuck in the car with only her negative thoughts. She wanted, for the first time, to get to Claire’s as soon as possible. There was nothing more she needed now than a distraction.

Distractions never help in the long run, silly. Amelia always said that. She had been a firm believer in dealing with emotions head-on and refusing to admit defeat. “Humans are extremely capable of dealing with any emotion thrown at them,” she loved to tell anyone in a crisis, especially a love crisis. “I’m serious, it’s true. Humans are so resilient. Especially women, and especially emotional women like you, Lillian. You are so resilient, and you don’t even know it yet. Just wait. You’ll amaze yourself.”

Back then, Lillian had thought Amelia was crazy. Every time she swore she wouldn’t make it out alive, she would just melt into the ground, she’d never try again...and every time, Amelia pulled her up out of that deep, dark hole of misery.

I wish you were here now, Amelia, she wished with all her heart as she parked the car in front of Claire’s house. Why did you have to leave?

Getting her umbrella ready to open as soon as she opened the car door, she listened to the sound of the rain plowing down on the windshield. The way it streamed down after each drop slammed onto the glass looked like the tears of a grieving person. Probably something like what her tears looked like last night.

A movement caught her eye and she squinted to see past the heavy rain. Claire was, as always, standing on her front porch looking at Lillian’s car. Somehow, she saw Lillian look in her direction and began to wave madly.

“Hi, Lillian! Hello!” she shouted in her shrill voice, practically bouncing up and down. Her voice barely made it through the storm, but no storm could overpower Claire’s excitement over the smallest things in life.

“Here goes nothing,” Lillian muttered, and braved the rain.

***

THE THUNDERSTORM ONLY got worse over the course of the morning. Ionically, Lillian had never been more grateful to have several appointments that day. After Claire, she had about an hour before her phone appointment with a woman who was soon moving from one side of town to the other, and refused to let Lillian see how messy their moving process was.

And even though Claire always made snacks for them while they looked through the hundreds of photos in her “inspiration binder,” Lillian was just about ready to catapult out the door to the nearest café.

Claire had been having a monologue for at least ten minutes. Lillian couldn’t help the fact that her mind was wandering, and reining it back was becoming increasingly difficult.

“Do you see how this room is all white and the furniture’s light gray? That’d be great for accent colors, especially with the new shelves we’re going to put up for my books.” Finally, she took a breath. Lillian wondered how she had gone so long without breathing.

“Claire,” Lillian said, smiling sweetly, trying to keep a light expression on her face despite the oncoming headache. “You know I’m not a real interior designer.”

“I know, silly!” The woman giggled like a child. “But you just have such great taste. I simply have to show you these ideas I have. What do you think?”

“Well, if you’re really asking my opinion, I think the white would help brighten the room since the windows are so small. And I think your new pinewood wall unit would be great.” Leaning forward as if she were letting the woman in on some great secret, she lowered her voice. “I personally am a sucker for accent walls.”

Claire’s eyes lit up like light bulbs. “Oh! Oh, Lillian, that’s an excellent idea!” She was suddenly on her feet, gripping the binder tightly. “You’ve just given me so many things to think about.”

“But I only told you one thing.” Lillian was confused.

“Ah, you think you only told me one thing.” Claire winked. “I know you need to go, so before I keep you any longer you go ahead. Can you take these crackers with you?”

“It’s all right, you keep them. Save them for next week.” She could feel her eyes drooping from the pain of her pounding skull.

“That reminds me, do you think you’re free Friday? I may be away on Monday and I don’t want to keep you on your toes waiting.”

“I might be. I’ll check my schedule over lunch and let you know.”

With a grin dangerously close to being literally ear to ear, Claire took Lillian’s elbow and led her to the front door. It was a normal-sized door, and the top of her head was only half of its height. Lillian always forgot how small she was when they were sitting down “brainstorming.”

“You take care and let me know about Friday, okay?”

“Definitely. Thank you, Claire.” She bent to pick up her umbrella and walked toward the car.

“Thank you, Lillian! See you soon!”

Today of all days, Lillian wished Claire didn’t stand at the front door watching until she drove away. She wished she could just sit there and nap for a few minutes. Last night’s turmoil had really taken a toll on her energy level, and having what little was left drained by Claire—sweet as she was—wasn’t going to help her get through the next three appointments this afternoon.

Coffee. I need coffee. Quickly she closed the umbrella and managed to yank it inside the car before she got soaked. Something about the silence there in the small space of her four-door, the rainfall plunking onto the metal, was more soothing than anything else could have been at this moment. She almost fell asleep in the middle of cranking the engine on.

Trying to be discreet, she peered out the passenger window and saw the tiny shape of Claire, still standing there. Not fidgeting, not shifting her weight to the other foot, just standing there like a highly-interested statue. Some people are truly characters, she thought. Claire is the type of distinct person who makes the world extra interesting.

Before she drove off, she checked her phone to make sure she wasn’t missing anything important. At the top of her notifications was a text from Cayden, sent half an hour ago.

Her heart stopped. Before she knew it, she opened the message to read it.

I made it to L.A. in one piece. Thought you might want to know :)

Lillian slammed her phone down on the seat like it was venomous, feeling suddenly hot and confined. Without waving back at Claire, she pulled into the street and rolled all four windows down a crack to let some chilly autumn air circulate. Small streams of water rolled inside the car, leaving clear streaks in the fogging windows.

Why would he do that? She fumed, angry and distraught all at once. After leaving in the middle of a very heated argument, why would he text me and make it sound like nothing had happened—like we were still together? Did he mean to send the message to someone else? She nodded and tried to breathe, her chest feeling tight. Yeah, that must be it. He must have meant to send that to someone else.

She knew it wasn’t true, but she still entertained the thought just to give her something to fume about. Cayden had said he wasn’t seeing anyone else. Well, she thought he had said that, at least. He had said that he and his client Janine weren’t seeing each other.

That would be the only thing that could possibly shock me in this situation, she couldn’t help but snicker. Cayden doesn’t seem like the older-woman type. For kicks, while she waited on a traffic light, she wondered what would happen if she started dating an older guy. She didn’t know what it would prove to Cayden, but it would make herself feel better. In theory, at least.

Maybe it’s not about the older man or woman. Her thoughts were getting deeper and deeper. Maybe I would just feel better if we saw other people. Unless he already is, judging from the tone of that text. Scowling at the turtle-like speed of the old red car in front of her, she quickly switched lanes. “Too hungry for this shit,” she muttered, glancing out the corner of her eye to see who the driver of the slow car was. Some skinny blonde teenager blaring hippie music, looking like she hadn’t a care in the world.

Lillian pressed the gas pedal down and sped ahead, finally feeling like she was able to take a huge, deep breath. The cold air rushed in, and seemed to direct itself straight to the bottom of her lungs. Going fast felt good. The adrenaline felt good. Hearing the gently falling raindrops slam against her windshield and slide roughly and horizontally past her windows satisfied the red-hot anger she felt.

To be honest, she couldn’t even figure out why she felt angry. Seven stages of grief or something like that, she assumed, but being the contemplative person she was, she wanted to get to the bottom of it and figure out why she was so irritated.

“Always ask why,” Amelia used to say. Somehow, all their deep conversations about existentialism and philosophy always happened in the hallway connecting their rooms. It would start with one of them leaning against the other’s doorway with that long, forlorn expression, confessing they needed to talk about something. And eventually they would sit on the floor of the hallway, pressing their feet against the other wall, helping each other process everything that was spinning madly out of control inside them.

“Ask why? Why?” The first time Amelia had given her that advice, Lillian was lost for any sign of logic in it.

“There you go!” Amelia had said, touching the tip of Lillian’s nose like a grandmother. “You’re doing it already. The more you ask ‘why,’ the deeper you’ll go within yourself. You’ll figure out why you’re feeling a certain way in no time.”

It had worked all these years, whenever she was done with harboring her negative emotions. Sometimes she thought it would feel good to stew in the negativity for a while, but of course it never worked in her favor, and instead only pulled her down into the pit again. As many times as she had been there, she was a bit disappointed in herself for not learning sooner that the stewing wasn’t as gratifying as she always hoped it would be.

Why do I feel angry with Cayden? The question felt so vague and giant, like an unidentifiable creature looming over her, so she simmered in that instead of the feeling itself for the last ten-minute stretch of her drive to the café. She took her lunch breaks there between appointments on busy days, so she knew the route well enough to let her conscious mind take a break. She didn’t mean to switch to robot mode while she was driving, especially during a thunderstorm, but it happened anyway. So much so that she didn’t notice her speed had gradually slowed to match that of the teenager she had passed before.

She returned to the present moment when she put the gearshift in park and switched off the engine. The rain had let up enough that it was no longer a furious pounding on every surface it touched. It looked like it was losing energy from its incessant storming the last few hours and slowing down for a nap.

Her mood matched the slowly-fading energy of the rain. She gathered her thoughts as she sat there, staring out at the parking lot before her. People were rushing to their cars, struggling to climb in and fold their umbrellas at just the right time so they stayed as dry as possible. It would have been funny to see a mother and her daughter scream giddily when both of their thin umbrellas were suddenly pushed inside out by a powerful burst of wind. She would have laughed at it and smiled, wishing she had fun and silly memories with her mother like that, but she didn’t even notice the two people. Her thoughts were still on her introspection.

I’m not mad at Cayden, she reluctantly admitted. I’m mad at myself.

Well, there were some things she was mad at him about. Mostly leaving her in the dust when he had to go catch his plane. Why, though? she wondered, realizing that maybe she had subconsciously tried to keep the argument going so she could have a little more time with him. Fighting or not, she didn’t want to see him go again. It hurt too much to be without him.

She was mad at herself for starting that argument. It could’ve ended well before he left, and they could have parted on a peaceful note. How could she accuse him of ever taking his anger out on her needlessly when she had done the same to him? And even worse, she was angry at herself for breaking up with him in the first place. For being so unconfident that her health was going to improve, that she would be able to one day enjoy all the things he enjoyed and people their ages enjoyed and have a thriving social life just like Cayden had. When she pressed send on that text message, she was so convinced that her poor health right now was going to be her reality forever. That her fragile body would always be this fragile. That she would never be able to give him the kind of relationship he deserved, simply because she couldn’t give it to him right now.

Getting lost in her hopelessness—she hadn’t even realized that was what it was, hopelessness—had driven her to break up with Cayden, the one who had inspired her to start learning the names of flowers and plants, and lighten up in moments she would have been stressed about a tiny thing that didn’t deserve that much stress. They hadn’t been together long, but she couldn’t deny that he had improved her wellbeing in all the areas where her physical health couldn’t match up.

She was mad at herself for not allowing herself to keep something amazing that had happened to her. Someone, rather. Someone who wanted her as much as she wanted him.

What upset her the most is that she hadn’t given it more thought. Big decisions like this are always best thought about until they can’t be thought about any more. She knew it. So why did she, on a whim, type that message about her not being good enough for him and blah, blah, blah? And why on earth had she dared to send it so quickly without rationalizing with herself?

The anger she had felt towards Cayden had shifted to anger with herself over the last few minutes, and now it shifted again to embarrassment. The whole thing was a mistake. Did she still believe that she was good for Cayden? Right now, her lifestyle—the busy work schedule, the trial-and-error health experiments, the days of being sick from running around the city until she was burned out, the lack of social life and the fear of joining his—wasn’t right for him. However, based on how much he had given her a glimpse of what her life could be, starting with learning the names of all the stupid plants he had in his dumb yard, she would have come out of her shell even more over time.

I don’t know how much time, though. She had to keep grasping for some reason not to apologize and try to make it up to Cayden for all the heartbreak she had caused them both. She regretted it, and wished it had never happened. Being away from him was hard, but she never expected it to take this much of a toll on her.

Her stomach grumbled loudly; she couldn’t tell if it was a flare-up waiting to happen or her body screaming “Feed me!” With a little sigh, she picked up her phone and opened his message again.

I made it to L.A. in one piece. Thought you might want to know :)

Yes, she had wanted to know. He knew her too well. Why he would send it as if nothing had happened between them she still didn’t know, and the idea that he meant to send it to someone else still tickled her mind. Maybe he had rebounded. Started something up with someone else when he realized that Lillian wasn’t going to take him back. That would have been really quick, though.

I need to handle this maturely, she told herself. No more rash decisions. I’m paying for it now. There’s no going back.

As she typed she kept reminding herself that he was very nice in his message, and she should be in hers. After their ugly words, he had the guts to let her know he was okay. She needed to be nice, too.

Thanks for letting me know, she responded, reading each word letter by letter. Hope the flight was smooth.

She sent it and started to type the next segment. Within a few words, she saw he had already read her reply. That he was so fast intimidated her a little.

She had to send this while she knew he was there.

Listen, I’m sorry for the fight we had. I shouldn’t have said a lot of those things. I shouldn’t have approached you at all; it was inconsiderate of me. This weekend was a mistake and I’m sorry I pulled you back into this. I want you to be with someone who makes you endlessly happy. We should both see other people. I think it will help put things in perspective.

It sounded good enough. It was simple, nice, and straightforward. Guys didn’t like stuff that beat around the bush. There was no way he could misinterpret this.

She looked back out into the parking lot. The rain had reduced to a drizzle, but the sky still swirled with black clouds. Thunderstorms always helped her center and calm her thoughts; she hoped it would continue through the night. Nothing was more peaceful than curling up in her reading chair with a good book, a cup of tea, and her cat. That was exactly how she wanted to spend her evening after work.

Her phone dinged, and she picked it up without a moment of hesitation. Cayden’s message was short. Are you really going to see other people?

“Well, that was direct,” she muttered, replying, Yes, I will.

It was a complete lie.

I will too, then. Thanks, Lil. Hope work is good.

Something about the way he was so eager to see other people now, and his tone being almost passive- aggressive, annoyed her, but she knew it wouldn’t be wise to focus on it. She couldn’t ignore it completely, but right now she needed to eat lunch and get some work done before her next appointment. Time was ticking, and she had to go into the café sometime.

Not worrying about the rain, she stepped out of the car and slowly opened her umbrella. A little rain wouldn’t kill her; the cold drops felt good on her face. It made her feel human in a weird way. Still, she didn’t want her clothes to get soaked. Locking the car, she strolled to the café. In the eerie silence of the storm’s lull, time seemed to slow down.

Mechanically, she stood in line to order a latte and a panini just like she always did. She had gotten here just before the main lunch rush, so she had her pick of tables. The small one in the corner caught her eye; it was small enough that she wouldn’t have to share when the rush happened.

And that’s why you have no social life, Lillian, she thought sarcastically, but right now her hunger had grown to the point that she didn’t care.

While she waited for her food she tried to do some planning for her next appointment, but she couldn’t keep her attention on it to save her life. She tried answering emails, but couldn’t even read them without running her eyes over the same line twenty times without understanding.

Frustrated, she closed her laptop as a waiter set her latte down. She smiled sweetly and took a sip, afraid to mess up the lotus flower design in the foam. It was so pretty and perfect. Her mind shut off; her eyes locked on the foamy flower for an undetermined amount of time.

She blinked slowly, feeling the exhaustion from a sleepless night and her morning with Claire setting in. Sleep was getting harder and harder to ward off, but her day was far from over.

Her phone rang loudly, jolting her mind awake. Seizing it quickly so she wouldn’t be a bother to the other customers, she answered it before she could see who it was.

“Hello?” Her voice sounded grainy.

“Hello, hello, hello,” the caller rumbled into her ear, and immediately she knew who belonged to that deep smiling voice.

“Andrew!” she exclaimed. “I’ve been thinking about you lately. We must have some sort of telepathy going on.” Really, she had been thinking about his sister Amelia lately, but she didn’t want to ruin the mood. Even though Amelia had passed a few years ago Lillian and Andrew had only recently reconnected, and the wounds of losing her were still fresh.

“How’s it going, girl? Life treating you well?”

“You act like we haven’t seen each other in forever.”

“It has been forever. A few months, right?”

“A few months, forever, same thing.” Hearing the voice of her surrogate brother lifted her spirits exponentially. “How are you?”

“Good, good. I’m coming to your neck of the woods for business again. Just found out a couple of days ago and decided to call you up.”

Andrew coming into town was exactly what Lillian needed right now. Suffering from this breakup by herself was the worst, and since Andrew had met Cayden when he was in town last he would be able to understand where she was coming from. “When are you coming? You’ll stay with me, right?”

“Well...” Andrew trailed off. “So, as you already know, my higher-ups like to send me places at the drop of a hat. I’m actually already in town.”

Her heart thudded from excitement. “That’s perfect. Seriously.”

“It’s short notice, I know.”

“I don’t even care. I desperately need someone to talk to. You can go ahead to my house. The spare key is above the door frame.”

Andrew coughed. “You’re a lot more enthusiastic than I had expected, and that’s saying something.”

“It’s been a long week.”

“It’s only Monday.”

“Exactly.”

Now he was starting to get the picture that something was going on. “You want to talk?”

The same waiter came over and put her food on the table. “Thank you,” Lillian said, seeing the line to order had gotten much longer. “Andrew, I’m eating lunch right now and I have a busy afternoon. I definitely need to vent to you tonight.” She sighed. “You have no idea how glad I am that you’re in town now, of all times.”

“Me...too?”

“Listen, I can’t guarantee that the house is super clean, but the sheets on the guest bed are clean. I’ll probably be home around six.”

“Good. I’ll get dinner for us. Is Cayden coming?”

Hearing his name dropped her heart to the floor. “No, he’s in Los Angeles.”

“Oh. All right, then. I’ll see you later.”

Lillian put the phone down and immediately dug into her sandwich, like it was the first food she had eaten in days. Am I stress-eating or happy-eating that Andrew is here? It didn’t matter. She wasn’t alone anymore. For the next couple of days, at least.

The afternoon suddenly didn’t seem so dreary as it had before.

***

“I THINK I COULDN’T take the thought of holding him down until I get better,” she finished. She had been spurting out everything she was feeling for the last ten minutes, and Andrew was somehow still listening attentively from his lounging position on the couch. The fleeting thought that maybe Andrew was glad about the breakup popped into her mind—Andrew had confessed to having some feelings for her last time he was here, but she had made it clear she didn’t reciprocate those feelings.

“I think breaking up was best,” he said simply.

The shortness of his answer confused her. “That’s it?”

“Yeah,” he said, shifting positions. “Even though you both really loved each other—and I know that because I saw it last time—you’re putting him ahead of yourself. Or so it seems to me.”

“You don’t think it was wrong?”

“Doesn’t seem wrong to me. What were his thoughts on it all?”

“I don’t know, really. I think he thought it was all nonsense. But I know he’ll realize later that this was the best thing for us.”

Andrew grunted, and scratched his chin. The way the shadows fell around his face made him look so much like Amelia right now. Lillian looked away. She couldn’t bear to miss Amelia any more than she already did.

“I texted him today,” she said. “I told him we should see other people. That it would help put things in perspective.”

“Perhaps, yeah.”

“Is it too late to be talking about this?”

“Nah.”

She frowned. “I’ve been monologuing.”

“You have, but I’m honored that you can talk about it with me.”

“Of course I can.” She stood up and stretched her arms toward the ceiling. “I don’t even know how I’m still functioning right now after no sleep last night.”

“You’re past the point of tired.” Andrew stood and patted her on the back. “Go to bed. Is it okay if I move my car into the driveway? I’m leaving early in the morning.”

“Sure, go ahead.” She yawned. “I might be unconscious when you come back in.”

He chuckled. “I wouldn’t doubt it. See you in the morning.” Grabbing his keys from the hook by the front door, he ran through the steady rain to his car. Lillian went to kitchen for water, but heard a strange noise from outside. Walking back to the front door, she opened it a crack and peeked out.

Andrew’s car’s headlights were on, but his engine wasn’t starting. The sputtering and spurting sounded more like an alien spaceship than a car engine. After several more tries Andrew slumped in the driver’s seat, turned the lights off, and ran back to the house.

“Guess I’m parking in the street tonight,” he grumbled, shaking the raindrops from his hair. “It’s old, anyway. Maybe it’ll be better in the morning.”

“It’s not a human, Andrew. Cars don’t heal like that.” Jokingly, she pinched his cheek. “Take my car.”

“Your car?”

“Not permanently,” she said laughing, “but use it tomorrow.”

“You don’t need it?”

Lillian shook her head. “I try to schedule one or two really busy days a week, so I can work from home the next day.”

A smile spread across Andrew’s face. “You’re a very smart cookie.”

“I know.” She winked.

“If you insist, then I’ll take it.”

“You don’t really have another option, do you?”

“Good point.” He yawned, and she caught it. Laughing at their synchronized yawning, Andrew put an arm around Lillian and guided her to her room. “Go to sleep, missy. You have raccoon eyes, you’re so tired.”

“I won’t protest.”

“Let me take you to dinner tomorrow.”

It was a blunt statement that caught her sleepy self off-guard. Since he had admitted to his feelings before, she wasn’t sure how to take it. But she had told Cayden she was moving on, and maybe this was the first step even though she didn’t like Andrew romantically.

“Are you sure?”

He nodded. “Absolutely. Consider it a thank-you for letting me crash here without any notice.”

“Don’t be stupid.”

“Then consider it an ‘I’m sorry for your breakup’.”

“It’s got nothing to do with you.”

“Would you please just let me take you to dinner because you’re amazing and you deserve a great meal?” The glimmer in his eyes spurred a drowsy grin onto her lips.

“Fine,” she agreed, sticking out her tongue.

“Good.” Andrew disappeared into the hallway, calling behind him, “’Night, Lillian!”

“Goodnight, Andrew,” she called back, sinking into her bed at the same time she sank into a dark, dreamless slumber.