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"Whoever patched you up. Better than the guy who closed my shoulder at Mount Sinai."

"Yeah."

"A woman?"

"Yeah."

"Christ. Falling in love with a nurse? You hopeless romantic."

"She's not a nurse."

"That makes it worse."

"You get her number?"

"No."

Reyes stares at me.

"You got shot saving a mysterious woman, disappeared for three days, got stitched up in what looks like a private surgical suite?—"

"It was a cabin."

"That somehow makes this worse."

"Reyes."

"Did you sleep with her?"

I look at him.

"No."

He goes quiet for a beat.

"That face says somehow that’s even more embarrassing."

He goes.

Partners are for the times you cannot be honest with yourself, Seanie.

I should be thinkingabout my mother.

About Frank.

About the fact that my entire life may be built on a lie.

Instead, I keep seeing Nadia against that kitchen wall.

Hair wrecked. Mouth swollen from kissing me.

Tell me to stop.

I’m not telling you to stop.

Christ.

I almost died yesterday, and somehow that is still the thing ruining my concentration.