I turned and watched his back as he walked away down the path. “Where are you going?” “I don’t want to go on like this.” I hurried after him and grabbed his arm. “No! Don’t.” “Why not?” “Because! She wouldn’t have wanted that, would she?” “She doesn’t want anything now.” He pulled his arm free and carried on. I got in front of him, barring his way. “Okay!” I said. “So you feel bad. That’s normal. Get drunk, get laid, get in a fight and get arrested, whatever, but don’t kill yourself.” He made to push past me again and I grabbed his shoulders and kissed him. I don’t know what made me do it. Desperation, maybe. Insanity was also a possibility. He froze for a moment and then grabbed me and kissed me back, hard and hot. My head spun and my knees felt weak. When I’d said get laid before I hadn’t exactly been offering, I’d meant ‒ He ripped my shirt open, popping off a couple of buttons and I gasped, flooding with heat and lust. But, you know, if it was to save his life, I could be. Now silence walked in her footsteps across the polished floor his hands had laid down for her. It was not her laughter he heard echoing through the chilled rooms she had helped him plan, it was life mocking him. Heavily, he dropped his soiled clothes to the floor next to the bed and turned back the covers. The large feather mattress sagged on the left side, contoured to where his body lay night after night. He still could not bring himself to sprawl across the bed onto where she should have lain. Hopefully his sleep would be filled with dreams of her. Seth awoke with a start from his fitful sleep, his ears still full of furtive whisperings. The nightmare that had been plaguing him already dim and fuzzy in his memory. He cursed and kicked off his coverings. Sometime during the night the temperature had soared and the mattress under him was damp with his sweat. He sat up in bed, shivering. The sweat that was coursing off his lean, muscled back congealed in the sudden chill that gripped.
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