I haven’t been kissed like that in a long, long time. Hell, I don’t think I’ve been kissed like that since Henry.

With him, there’s always more. Sure, I’ve had boyfriends, but with him… it’s always like it’s special. The spark never goes away, not completely at least. I remember it was like that with him back in the day, back when we were kids. I never thought for a second that I could feel so strongly about someone again, so intensely and stupidly…

But no, I can’t let myself go down that road. What I said back there was the truth. We’re coworkers and we can’t risk getting involved with each other. No matter how good it feels, we have to keep it professional.

Besides, when he started speaking to me on the bridge about our past, I had an intense feeling of revulsion. I couldn’t hear it from him. All that anger came flooding back and I wanted to yell at him. I had to make him stop or else risk saying something stupid.

Things are so complicated with Henry. I hate that about us, hate that things have gotten here. We used to be so close, closer than I’ve ever been with someone. That’s probably why my heart is still a little bit broken and I can’t completely get past him.

It’s his fault, though. I can’t forget that. None of this would have happened if he hadn’t decided to break things off with me.

I’ll never forget that afternoon. It happened out of nowhere. The school day ended, and normally I’d walk back with him. I waited at our usual spot near the cafeteria, but he never showed up. After a half hour of waiting, I decided just to head back on my own.

When I got halfway back, I noticed Henry sitting on a guard rail next to a bridge. He stood as I approached. I guessed he knew I’d pass eventually, and he was waiting for me.

“Where were you?” I asked him. “I was waiting.”

“Viv, listen. We gotta talk.”

His face scared me. It was so serious, and I knew something was wrong. “Are you okay?”

“Viv, listen to me. We need to break up.”

Those words were like daggers. “What?” I managed to say.

“Sorry. It’s just not working out.” He looked away then and for a second, I thought he was joking.

“Good one,” I say, taking a tentative step toward him.

“I’m not kidding,” he snapped, eyes flashing. “This isn’t a joke, okay? We have to be done.”

“Henry—“

“We’re though, Vivian. We’re breaking up.” He paused and finally met my gaze. “Good luck.” He turned then and walked away, hurrying across the street and between two houses.

I watched him go, broken and devastated. I called him that night, but he never answered, and things were never the same after that.

I sigh, getting out of bed. I hate remembering that moment, but it’s been coming back to me lately. It came out of nowhere. I was just talking to him about wanting to go to college with him. He was pissed about that, told me I had to go to Harvard, but then things seemed fine for a couple weeks. I thought we’d be together forever.

I was stupid, of course. I’m not stupid anymore.

I get out of bed, wash my face, and do my usual morning routine. When I’m showered and clean, I head down into the lobby with my notes for the afternoon. I grab a cup of coffee and start reviewing the questions.

It’s hard to pay attention, since I keep drifting off, thinking about Henry’s kiss. I’m supposed to meet with families of opioid addicts, and I know this is going to be tough. It’s an emotional subject, and a lot of these people lost loved ones to this disease. I have to be on the top of my game.

As I’m skimming my pages, Henry appears. He’s always up before the crew. He nods at me as he pours a cup of coffee and sits down across from me.

“How’s it going?” he asks.

“Not bad,” I say. “Just reviewing for later.”

He nods, glancing at the pages. “Should be a tough one.”

“I know,” I say. “But important.”

“Definitely,” he agrees. “These people… they’ve been through something we can barely understand. We need them if we’re going to make this work.”

“Definitely,” I say, surprised by the passion in his voice.

He sighs and sips his coffee. “Damn idiots,” he grumbles. “They’re going to sleep until the last minute and I’m going to have to carry a bunch of shit.”

I grin at him. “You’re a young, strong guy. You can tough it out.”

He grumbles something indistinct and sips his coffee. I can’t help but smile as I go back to reviewing my notes. He takes out his laptop and starts doing work, and we sit there in silence together. I’m surprised at how comfortable it is.

After about a half hour of this, Henry suddenly perks up. I follow his gaze and spot a woman looking around the lobby. She’s in her forties, tan skin and sagging bags under her eyes. She looks like a lifelong smoker, with deeply dyed blonde hair and lots of metal bracelets.

“Shit,” Henry says, standing.

“What?” I ask him.

“That’s one of our interviews.” He looks down at me. “Wait here.”

He walks over to her and greets her, and I can tell from the look on her face that this isn’t a good thing.

I put down my pages and stand. I walk over, getting closer.

“But why?” Henry’s saying as the woman shakes her head.

“We just can’t, okay?” she says, her voice a croak.

She looks fucking terrified.

“But tell me why, Lucille,” he says again. “We’re here to help you. To tell your story and your son’s story.”

“My son is gone. It’s over. We just want to be left alone.”

“Do they all feel that way?”

She nods, looking at the ground, avoiding Henry’s gaze. “Everyone. We’re all canceling. I’m sorry. Please don’t bother us.”

“Lucille—“

“Don’t bother us,” she says again. “Or we’ll call the cops, okay? Got it? Leave us alone.”

She turns and leaves then, storming off. I stare after her and Henry is clearly shocked.

“What just happened?” I ask him.

“I have no clue,” he says, shaking his head. “That was my local contact, Lucille Slater.”

“She looked scared,” I say.

He looks at me with a frown. “I noticed that too.”

“Why would she be afraid?”

We stand there in silence for a second. “Shit,” he says softly. “You don’t think…?”

“Maybe,” I say, picking up on his thread right away. “I mean, why else?”

“That guy from the other night did say that the Strips wouldn’t be happy with us poking around.”

“They could have threatened them.” I bite my lip, heart beating faster. “What could they have said to make her that afraid?”

“I don’t know,” he says. “But I have to make some calls and get to the bottom of this.”

“Okay. Anything I can do?”

“Not right now,” he says and turns to head toward the elevators. Before he gets there, he pauses and turns back. “Stay in the hotel, okay?” he says.

I nod. “I’ll be down here or in my room.”

“Good. Just stay here for now.”

The worry in his expression makes me a bit afraid, but he quickly gets on the elevator and heads up to his room. I watch him disappear and I slowly head back to my seat. I pick up my coffee and sip it, staring at the floor.

If these people are too afraid to talk to us, then things might be even worse here than we thought. Clearly they’re more afraid of the Strips than they are of anything else. They probably hate the gangs and the drugs that killed their loved ones, but they’re too afraid to do anything.

And that means we should be afraid, too. Because we’re not going to stop pushing and trying to get to the bottom of this story. It’s too important, and I personally can’t let thugs like the Strips get away with this. Still, this is real danger, and these guys are seriously violent.

I don’t know what to think. But I trust Henry. I know he has our best interests at heart. He’s the guy that takes pictures of the moon in the middle of a war zone, after all. I can trust him to take care of the entire crew.

And if he’s not backing down then neither am I.