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Over the next few days, Dad’s house was invaded by relatives of all ages, shapes, and sizes. There were people flowing in and out that I hadn’t seen since I was a little girl, all of whom had to tell me how much they loved Dad, and how sorry they were. By the end of the weekend, I was ready to hang myself if I heard “I’m sorry” one more time.

The good thing, however, was the fact that there was never a lack of hands to help me sort through Dad’s belongings, and as long as I was surrounded by near-strangers, I didn’t feel the need to cry. I methodically spent two days going through each room in the house, boxing everything up, and figuring out where to put it all. Aunt Tess had rented a storage locker that would do until Dad’s will was read on Tuesday and we found out what he wanted done with all of his things.

I felt so cold, so heartless, separating the things he’d loved into piles and sealing them in boxes, but I kept telling myself that it had to be done. The worst part was, I had to go through Mom’s things, too, since Dad had never cleared them away when she died. Her clothes were still hanging in her closet, as though waiting for her to come back and wear them, her favourite books were sitting on the bookshelves in Dad’s library, waiting for her to come and read them, and her records and CDs were still neatly stacked in the living room, waiting for her to come and listen to them. Dad always said he’d take care of her stuff when he had time, but he’d never gotten around to it. Now, having to put his stuff away, I knew why: it just hurt too much.

The morning of the funeral dawned bright and sunny, the complete opposite of how I felt. I’d had to go out and buy myself a new dress to wear, since I hadn’t planned on attending a funeral when I’d hurriedly made my trip home, and it hung on the closet door in my old bedroom, staring at me. I knew that as soon as I put it on, this whole nightmare would become real, and I wouldn’t be able to push it aside any longer. I would be putting my dad in the ground today, beside my mom, and I would be more alone than I’d ever felt in my life. My movements were slow and jerky as I dressed and skinned my hair back into a tight bun on the back of my head. I didn’t bother with make-up, figuring it wasn’t the time to care about my appearance, given what the day held. I didn’t even glance in the mirror as I slipped my shoes on and hurried downstairs to meet Grandma and Aunt Tess.

The funeral home was filled with people, many of whom I didn’t even know. The funeral director, Bruce, came over to us as soon as the Lincoln Town Car he’d sent for us pulled up in front of the funeral home. He was a stout little man with white hair and a kindly face. He offered me his hand as I stepped from the car.

“Miss Madison,” he said, his warm smile making me feel a tiny bit better. “Everything is set up in the front room, if you’d like to take a look before we begin.”

“Of course,” I said softly, formally, allowing him to lead me to where my dad was laid out in an open casket.

“I’ll give you a minute,” Bruce said, closing the big double doors behind me.

I stood rooted to the spot for a minute, then made my way over to where the casket was overflowing with blood-red roses and snow-white baby’s breath, Dad’s favourites. They were my mom’s favourite, too.

The bruising was gone from around his face, and there was no longer a bandage on his head. His lips almost formed a smile, and for a moment I saw the tender look he used to give me when I was a little girl and couldn’t sleep because of nightmares. A lump formed in my throat as I reached out and touched his hand, so cold in death, when once it had been so warm and full of life. I leaned down and kissed his forehead, a single tear slipping down my cheek. It was the first tear I had cried, but for the time being it was the only.

“Daddy,” I breathed, wanting him to wake up and hug me, to tell me it would all be okay. But I knew he never would. He’d never wake up again. He’d never hug me, or tell me he loved me, or scold me, or pretend to be angry with me while hiding a smile. No matter what I said or did, he wouldn’t be there. He’d never walk me down the aisle at my wedding, he’d never hold my children, his grandchildren, he’d never get to enjoy anything he’s looked forward to.

Suddenly I was angry, so angry I saw red. I hated him for leaving me, for not asking my permission to just go the way he did. I hated myself for not being there when he needed me, for being so self-absorbed that I didn’t even know anything was wrong. I hated that room, I hated those flowers, I hated my dress, I hated everything about this horrible, ugly day. I wanted to throw myself on the floor and bang my fists on the carpet the way I had when I was a child, venting my frustrations the way only a little kid can.

Instead, I squared my shoulders and let another tear slide down my face. “I love you so much,” I said, leaning down to press my cheek to his chest, to hug him as best I could. He was cold and stiff, and not really my father anymore, but I held on as long as possible.

I didn’t even notice when warm hands gently grabbed my arms and pulled me away, turning me into an even warmer body. I was so lost in my own grief, the familiar scent against my cheek didn’t even register for a moment. I sagged against that warm body for a moment before reality kicked in and I backed away.

“Nick,” I said softly, looking up into his friendly face. “What are you doing here?”

He gave me that goofy grin of his, though it wasn’t quite as wide as normal. “I just figured you could use a little extra support in your corner right now, sweetie,” he said, rubbing my arms lightly. “And since Monday is our day off, I flew a couple people in, just for you.”

“You did?” I had to admit, it made me feel better than he was there, and that he’d brought some friendly faces. I was really hoping Lisa was one of the people he’d brought.

He hugged me again and chuckled lightly. “Yes, honey, I did,” he said. “Lisa told me you hadn’t been able to reach Orlando.”

I shook my head. “No, every time I call, he’s busy,” I said, ignoring the anger churning in my stomach as I remembered how bitchy Carrie had been, even when I’d told her my dad had died. “He’s never returned my calls, either.” I shrugged, trying to be nonchalant. “Oh well, I’ll catch him sooner or later.”

“That’s not right,” Nick said, his forehead bunched up. “He should be here.”

“He’s dealing with the movie coming out,” I said by way of an excuse. Even though I was mad at him myself, I still felt the need to defend him to others. “It’s not his fault Disney is treating this thing like the second coming of Christ. When his schedule frees up enough that he can get away, I’m sure he will.”

“You’re more forgiving than I’d ever be,” Nick said, shaking his head slowly. He glanced over at my dad. “Have you had enough time with him?”

I nodded, another tear slipping down my cheek. Nick wiped it away, much the way my father would have. “Yeah, we should get started,” I whispered. I forced myself to turn away from Dad and let Nick lead me from the room.

Lisa and Adam were standing with Aunt Tess, Grandma, and Deanna when we came out. They were both dressed in black, looking very somber. I was surprised to see Adam, given how we’d left things, but his presence was comforting, and I was grateful that he was there.

I went immediately to Lisa and she hugged me tightly. I almost lost my cool in her arms, but managed to hang on by a thread. I managed a weak smile as I backed away.

“Thanks for coming,” I said. “I’m going to tell Bruce we can start.” At Grandma’s nod, I went to find him.

Dad hadn’t wanted visitations, so we’d skipped them and gone right to the funeral. I was glad, since I didn’t want to be there any more than I had to. I doubted I could have handled the extra two nights at the funeral home that visitations require.

As everyone got seated in the small chapel, and Bruce waited at the front for the shuffling to die down, I just stared down at my hands, avoiding the glances I knew I was getting. I hated the pity and the sadness I felt in the room. I sighed as the minister came forward to begin the service.

I tried to listen, I really did, but I couldn’t help but let my mind wander. Aunt Tess was crying on one side of me, and Grandma was dabbing at her eyes on the other, and it was all a bit much for me. I sat there as long as I could, but I couldn’t do it anymore. Even though I knew it was rude, I got up and hurried out of the room.

I went outside, walking as fast as I could, not sure where I was going. The day was warm, and the sun was bright, but I was cold, frozen to the core. I wanted to cry, but couldn’t bring myself to do it. I wanted to let go of all the emotions that were raging through me, but no matter what I did, it just wouldn’t happen. It didn’t feel like the right time.

Without thinking, I pulled my cell phone from my purse and jabbed in Orlando’s number. It rang five times before Carrie’s snotty voice answered, as I knew it would.

“Give Orlando the phone,” I said in response to her almost-screamed, “What?!?!”

She let out a big harassed sigh. “Charlie, he’s working,” she snapped. “I can’t be bothering him for every little thing.”

“For fuck sakes, would you get over yourself?” I screamed, suddenly glad she was going to be the target of my so-far-suppressed emotions. “You have got to be one of the rudest, most self-centered bitches I’ve ever met! Do you not realize that my fucking dad just died? Orlando is my boyfriend, I have every right to talk to him, and if you don’t give him the fucking phone this fucking minute, I will personally ring your ugly, scrawny neck the next time I see you!”

She went silent for a moment. I tried to catch my breath as the tears rolled down my cheeks, free at last. I braced myself for Orlando’s voice, but it didn’t come. Instead, there was a very noticeable click, and then the beeping dial tone. The bitch had hung up on me.

I stood there for a moment, staring at my phone as though it had just sprouted wings. My mind was racing as I sniffed back more tears. I was beyond pissed now, and Orlando was going to know about it. I opened the phone again and scrolled through my address book. Finding the number I wanted, I dialed, and waited for the answer.

“Hey, Kevin,” I said when he picked up. “I’m sorry to bother you, but is Keira busy?”

“Charlie,” he said, sounding very upbeat. “Yeah, she’s right here.”

“Hey,” Keira said when she took the phone. “How are you?”

“Not good,” I said, fighting off the hiccups. “Keira, my dad died on Friday, and I can’t get through to Orlando because of that bitch his PR team has working for him. Is there any way you know where he is right now?”

“Oh my God, honey,” she said. “I’m so sorry. Actually, he’s right here. Hang on.”

“Charlie?” Orlando voice came on the line a few seconds later. “Darling, what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” I mimicked. “What’s wrong? I haven’t talked to you in two goddamned days, and you ask ‘what’s wrong’? My dad died Friday night, Orlando, that’s what’s wrong. And I’ve called you a million times, but that bitch you have working for you is acting like the fucking Secret Service protecting the President from a fucking terrorist! Did you not think to call me at all in the past two days? Or do you have your head shoved so far up your own ass that you forgot about anyone but yourself?”

“Slow down, love,” he said, and I could tell he was fighting not to get angry with me. “I called you twice this weekend, but you didn’t answer. And I didn’t get any messages that you’d phoned.”

“Maybe you should look into that.”

“I will, don’t worry,” he said. “Now, where are you?”

“I’m supposed to be at my dad’s funeral,” I said, the tears coming even faster. “But I couldn’t sit there anymore. I’m outside somewhere, just wandering around. I really need you here, Orlando. Please, get on a plane and get here.”

“I can’t right now, love,” he said, keeping his voice low. “You know I would if I could, but we’ve got so much press to do in the next few days, it’s ridiculous. I’m taping TV appearances and giving interviews, and there just isn’t time.”

I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. He was seriously telling me a few interviews were more important than me and what I was going through. I thought I’d vomit right there.

“Did I hear you right?” I managed over the lump in my throat. “Are you choosing movie promotions over me, when I need you the most?”

“I can’t just get on a plane, Charlie,” he said, somewhat sternly. “This is my job, the same as being on stage every night is yours. As soon as I can get away, I will.”

“Don’t do me any favors,” I spat, practically shaking with rage. “I’m sorry I bothered you.”

“Come on now,” he said, his voice gentler than it had been a moment before. “Don’t be like that, love. Just give me a few days to deal with this stuff, and then I’ll be there.”

“You know what? Don’t bother,” I said. “I’ll be just fine by myself.” Then something occurred to me. “Adam, Lisa, and Nick are here. I’ve got all the support I need.”

He paused. “Adam’s there?” He sounded deadly calm.

“Yeah, he flew in today for the funeral,” I said, knowing it was mean to rub it in his face, but I was too pissed off to care. “With Lisa and Nick,” I added, despite myself. “Look, I have to go.”

“Wait,” Orlando said. “Don’t be angry with me, love. You know I can’t do anything about it.”

“Sure you can’t,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I’ll catch you another time, Orlando. Good-bye.” I closed my phone, disconnecting the call.

“Charlie?”

I spun around to see Adam standing on the sidewalk a few feet away.

I brushed my hands over my cheeks, to clear the tears. “What are you doing here?” I said, putting my phone back in my purse.

“When you walked out, I figured you might need a friend,” he said, coming closer to me.

“I don’t need to be hit on right now,” I snapped, turning my back on him. “But thanks anyway.”

“That’s not what I’m here for,” he said, putting his hand on my arm. “I just didn’t think you should be alone, that’s all.”

“And who the hell are you to judge what I need?” I couldn’t help it. I was so angry at Orlando and Carrie, and so upset over my dad, the words seemed to come out without checking in with my brain first. I was being a bitch, but I didn’t care.

“Your friend,” he said smoothly.

“The last time I checked, that wasn’t true,” I said, jerking away from him. I spun around to face him again. “The last time I checked, you were still trying to get in my pants, and that’s hardly something I need to deal with today.”

“It’s okay if you want to vent at me, Charlie,” he said gently. “I understand how hard this is for you. And the truth is, I’m really not the one who should be standing here with you, but I’m all there is for right now.”

I didn’t say anything for a minute. When I looked up into his eyes, I saw the understanding I needed, much like I had when we first met. He was right, he wasn’t the one I needed with me, but I couldn’t do anything about that. I sighed.

“Okay, look,” I started, wrapping my arms around myself. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be screaming at you like that. I appreciate that you came up here, and that you followed me, especially since I know I wasn’t your favourite person the last time we talked. I’m just trying to sort a lot of things out, and Orlando’s being an asshole, which isn’t helping. Things just seem to be going from bad to worse, you know?”

“I gathered you were having problems,” Adam said, slipping off his jacket. He put it around my shoulders. “You’re shaking, Charlie. Let’s go get you some coffee or something, okay?”

“I really should go back inside,” I said. “My family needs me.”

“Okay, I’ll walk you back,” he said, putting his arm around me. He gave me a gentle squeeze.

“Thanks.” I let him lead me back inside.

I stood in the back of the room, with Adam’s hand on my back, waiting for a good time to go back to the front to sit with my family. When the minister’s reading ended, I silently made my way back to the front pew, Adam following me to get to his seat. When he stopped, I grabbed his hand and tugged gently. Without a word, he followed me to the front and slid into the pew with me, between Grandma and Aunt Tess. He held my hand through the rest of the service, and I was definitely glad he was there.

After the service, we went to the cemetery to bury Dad beside Mom. The minister said a few words, and I put a perfect red rose on the casket before they lowered it. It took every ounce of strength I had not to throw myself on the casket as it went into the ground. I ended up burying my face in Adam’s shoulder after I shoveled the first bit of dirt into the hole. I wanted it to be Orlando who was holding me so close, but I settled for Adam because without his arms around me, I would have been in a heap on the grass in seconds.

When the internment was over, I had trouble walking away. Everyone else started to head for their cars to go to the reception at Aunt Tess’s, but I stood rooted to the spot. It made me feel sick to think that I’d be leaving my dad in the dirt like that.

“Honey, are you coming?” Aunt Tess said when everyone else was gone. “We should get home.”

“I need a few minutes,” I said quietly, fighting the tears again. I took a deep, ragged breath, and Adam tightened his arm around me. “I’ll be along shortly. You go ahead.”

“I’ll make sure she gets there,” Adam said while I glanced over to Dad’s grave again.

“Thank you,” Aunt Tess said, somewhat stiffly. She didn’t like the idea that Adam was there and Orlando wasn’t, but she didn’t say anything, just headed to her car.

We didn’t say anything for a few minutes, letting the warm June breeze blow lightly around us. I pulled Adam’s jacket tighter around me and stepped away from him. I crouched down beside the open grave and lightly touched the dirt, letting it run over my fingertips. It seemed so surreal that my dad would be forever covered in dirt from that day on, and it made me ache to think about it. The pain washed over me in brutal, crushing waves, and I ended up sitting on the ground, hugging my knees to my chest, crying harder than I ever thought I could. My eyes stung, my body trembled, and my chest burned as I gasped for the breath to keep up with my sobs. I was finally letting everything go, and refused to stop it.

Before long, Adam was on his knees beside me, ruining his beautiful black pants in the dirt, pulling me into his lap and wrapping me in his arms. I soaked his grey shirt with my tears, but he didn’t care. He just rocked me back and forth as I cried, not saying anything. He knew I needed him to just be there, and so he was.

I don’t really know how long we sat like that, but after awhile the tears stopped, and I sagged, shaking, in his arms. Tentatively, I slipped my arms around his neck and hugged him tightly to me.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, pulling back to look up into his face, bringing my arms back down to my lap. “I didn’t mean to lose it like that.”

“Charlie, it’s okay,” he said, giving me a small smile. “You obviously needed to let go of that, or else it wouldn’t have happened. I’m just glad you weren’t alone when it finally came out.”

I climbed shakily to my feet. “I haven’t really cried until today,” I said, refusing to look at the open grave again. I knew it would bring back the sobs if I did, and I had no energy left for that. I felt physically and emotionally drained, to the point where I was wobbling where I stood. I shook myself to clear my head.

“Do you feel any better?” Adam asked, standing as well, wiping the dirt from his pants. His shirt had a huge wet spot on it from my tears, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“I don’t feel like a loaded gun anymore,” I said, starting to walk toward the car that was waiting for us. Nick and Lisa had obviously gone with someone else, and left their rented car for us. “It still hurts, but it’s not as raw, you know?”

He nodded as we walked. “I almost didn’t come,” he said abruptly. “I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me here.”

I didn’t say anything for a minute, processing what he’d said. “I’m glad you did,” I said finally. We’d reached the car and he opened the passenger door for me. I stopped before getting in. “Are we okay?” I whispered, searching his face.

Slowly he nodded. “Yeah, we’re fine,” he said, a bit of a smile curling on his lips. “Don’t worry, honey. There’ll be no weirdness, I promise.” He shut the door and went around to the driver’s side.

The reception at Aunt Tess’s was in full swing when we got there. Tables of food were set up in her backyard, with lots of chairs, and some classical music playing on the stereo that was set up in the living room window. Dad would have loved the whole atmosphere. It was calm and inviting, and everything a family gathering should be.

Adam and I found Lisa and Nick in Aunt Tess’s rose garden, by themselves since they didn’t really know anyone yet. They’d met Dad, Aunt Tess, and Deanna, but the rest of my family was foreign to them.

“How are you holding up, kiddo?” Nick said when they’d both hugged me again.

“I’m better now,” I said, managing a smile. “I didn’t think I was going to make it through today, but I did. I’m so glad you’re all here.”

“We wouldn’t leave you by yourself when you needed us the most,” Lisa said, squeezing my hand. She’d put extra emphasis on ‘by yourself’ and I knew exactly what she was thinking: where the hell was Orlando?

“I didn’t think I could feel lonely with my family around,” I said, leading them to a table so we could all sit down. I just didn’t feel like I could stand anymore. “But I feel so strange here now, like I don’t belong, and I never thought I’d feel like that.”

“You’ve grown up a lot since you moved, honey,” Nick said, shrugging. “Of course you can’t come home and feel like you did when you lived here. That’s just the way it goes. You’re a New Yorker now, kid. Deal with it.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “I probably won’t come home very much now that Dad’s gone,” I admitted sadly. “I mean, I love Aunt Tess and Deanna, but Dad was my closest link to here.” A lump formed in my throat. “It’ll be way too hard to come back after this, knowing he won’t be here.”

“It’ll get easier with time,” Adam said softly, handing me his handkerchief as the tears started to roll down my face again. “In a few years, you’ll be able to come back to visit, and it won’t hurt quite as much.”

I wiped my face quickly, not wanting to cry again. “You’re right,” I said. “But at the moment, it doesn’t seem like the pain will ever stop.” I took a deep breath. “So when are you guys flying home?” I asked. I had to change the subject.

“We booked a hotel for tonight, and we fly out at noon tomorrow,” Nick said. “We’ll be back for tomorrow night’s show.”

“A hotel?” I said, wiping my eyes again. “That’s silly. There’s lots of room at Dad’s, and I don’t really want to be alone. Why don’t you just stay with me?”

“Are you sure?” Lisa said. “We don’t want to be any trouble.”

“It wouldn’t be,” I said. “I’d be glad for the company. There’s no point in spending money on a hotel when I have a whole huge house to myself.”

“Thanks, kiddo,” Nick said, smiling. “We’ll just have to take you up on that offer.”

I played the dutiful hostess for the rest of the day, trying to be gracious with everyone, when deep inside I really wanted to be curled up by the fire in Dad’s study, with one of his books and a cup of tea, just to feel close to him. I’d have loved it if Orlando were there with me, but thinking about what had happened on the phone earlier that day just made me ache even more, so I pushed it out of my mind.

By the time I finally got away and headed home, I was exhausted. Nick, Lisa, and Adam gave me a ride home, and I showed them where they’d be sleeping. Lisa was going to share with me, Nick would take the spare bedroom, and Adam would take Dad’s room. It didn’t take long for them to get settled in for the night.

“I think I’m going to go downstairs and have a glass of wine,” I said after I’d changed into my blue Disney Princess flannel pajamas and pulled my hair into a messy ponytail on the back of my head. Lisa was still taking off her make-up and combing out her hair. I knew she wanted to call Jeremy before bed, so I thought I’d give her some privacy.

“Do you want me to come with you?” she said, looking at me through the mirror. “I don’t mind.”

“No, it’s okay,” I said, shaking my head. I pulled my robe on and opened the bedroom door. The hallway was dark, but there was light coming from Nick’s and Adam’s rooms. I tiptoed down the stairs to the kitchen.

After I’d poured myself a sizeable glass of wine, I went into Dad’s study and lit a fire. I knew it would make the room unbearably warm, given it was June and already too warm outside, but I didn’t care. Dad and I had lit fires in that fireplace so many times, I felt that I needed one last one to make things okay. I sat in his overstuffed reading chair and pulled my knees to my chest, gazing into the flames. I felt comforted, like Dad was there, and I felt my stiff muscles really relax for the first time in days.

The flames were just starting to die down when I heard the study door open. I turned to see Adam come into the room in his own robe, his feet bare, his black silk pajamas poking out the arms and legs.

“Hey,” I said quietly, not wanting to be too loud, for fear of breaking the peaceful atmosphere in the room.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he said, coming over to the chair and crouching down beside it. He kept his voice low, too.

I nodded slowly. “I think so,” I said, shifting in my seat so I could look at him. “I’m just not ready for bed yet, you know?”

“Do you want some company?”

I set my wine glass on the floor beside the chair and stood up. “Yeah, sure,” I said. “You can have the chair, I’ll sit on the floor.”

“You don’t have to,” he said, standing as well. “I’m fine on the floor.”

“No, that’s how Dad and I used to sit,” I said, trying to swallow the lump that was forming in my throat. “He’d sit with his book or whatever, and I’d do my homework on the floor in front of him.” I shrugged. “It just feels natural.”

He didn’t argue with me, just sat in the chair. I dropped down on the floor, with my back against the chair, between his knees, and picked up my wine glass.

We sat like that for awhile, not saying anything, just being in the same room. He didn’t touch me, except where I leaned against his legs, but it was comforting just the same. I didn’t feel quite as alone.

It felt like we sat there forever, but it was only a couple of hours. I emptied my wine glass and set it aside, but didn’t dare get up. It would ruin the illusion I was happily sitting in.

“You know,” I broke the silence finally, “I used to imagine my mom and dad doing this after I’d gone to bed at night.” I smiled into the fire. “They were so in love, it wasn’t hard to imagine them curling up by a fire together. I remember sneaking downstairs for a drink one night, just after Mom got sick, and the door to this room was open just a bit, with only the fire light coming through. I was thirteen, but I remember it like it was yesterday.” The tears started to well as I vividly saw the image in my head. “Dad was sitting in the chair, and Mom was on his lap, her head on his shoulder, sleeping more peacefully than she had since she’d started her treatments. She looked so frail laying there, I had to force myself not to run over and hug her. She’d already lost so much weight from the radiation and the chemo therapy, she looked more like a child than a grown woman.” I paused to swallow, to make my throat clear enough to keep going. “Dad just held her, and didn’t move a muscle, and in that moment, I really saw what love is, and how hard it can be, all at the same time.”

Adam didn’t move, didn’t say a word, but I knew he was listening.

“I always hoped that if anything like that ever happened to me, I’d be with someone who loved me enough to hold me by the fire,” I said, my eyes fixated on the flames without really seeing them. I was seeing my parents, together, happy and smiling, and so involved in each other that they didn’t realize the rest of the world existed. I inhaled sharply at the pain the image brought on.

“Charlie? What are you thinking?” Adam said softly, when I didn’t speak for quite some time.

“Nothing important,” I lied, forcing away the bitter thoughts that were creeping into my mind. I knew damned well that I should be sitting in that room sharing those thoughts with Orlando, not with Adam. But Orlando had chosen his career over me, and as such wasn’t there the way my dad always was for my mom. I tried to reason with myself, to see his side, to understand how important the next week or two were to him in terms of his job, and I almost convinced myself that it was okay. The truth was, though, that I was lonely, and I needed him with me, job or no job. My whole world had been thrown upside down, and the one thing I had left to depend on wasn’t even there for me.

“I know that look,” Adam’s voice cut into my thoughts. “I know you’re not telling me everything, and that’s fine. I just want you to trust me, okay?”

I turned and looked up at him, so beautiful in the dull glow of the fire. “I do trust you,” I said softly. “But I have to get through some stuff right now, that’s all. I appreciate that you’re sitting here with me. It means more than you know. But would you mind if I had a few minutes to myself?”

He shook his head. “Not at all,” he said. “I’ll head upstairs to bed, and I’ll see you in the morning.” He stood up and stepped over me, then reached into his pocket. He pulled out a folded piece of paper and handed it to me. “If you get some time in the next day or two, read that, okay?”

I took the paper. “Okay,” I said, searching his face, but it remained blank. “I will.”

He nodded, gave my fingers a small squeeze, and left the room. I sat back down in the chair, and unfolded the paper, tilting it toward the firelight so I could read it.

“I’m sorry for everything I said,” it began. “And for everything I forgot to say, too. When things get so complicated, we stumble at best, muddle through.” I paused, thinking the words were very familiar. “I wish that our lives could be simple, I don’t want the world, only you. I wish I could tell you this face-to-face, but there’s never the time, never the place. So this letter will have to do. I love you.” At the bottom of the page was signed simply, “A.”

I read it over three times, then realized where I recognized it from. It was a song from Aida, called ‘Radames’s Letter.’ It was one of my favourite songs from the Original Broadway Cast Recording, of which Adam was a part, and I’d always loved how his voice sounded while he was singing it. The words seemed an appropriate apology, but I couldn’t be sure what they meant. I folded the paper up and slipped it inside my robe, figuring I could ask him in the morning. I put out the fire, grabbed my wine glass, and went upstairs to bed.