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“I’ll check your closet,” I said.

“There’s no time,” he said abruptly. “I’m running late, I’ll wear a different pair.”

He pulled off the other cufflink and dropped it into my hand. Then he stormed off into his closet. I stared at his single cufflink as I heard him slam one of his dresser doors. When he came back out, he brushed past me. I knew what he was waiting for. He wanted me to apologize for everything I’d said last night. I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t be the one to fix everything this time.

“I’ll find the other one,” I said. “You should go.”

He nodded, then paused, staring at me. Waiting for me to say what he expected once more. When he realized I wouldn’t, he gave me a pained expression that tugged at my heart.

“When I get home,” he said.

“We’ll talk,” I finished for him.

“Mina… I… I love you.”

I nodded. I loved him too. But I couldn’t say it back. I knew I’d fall apart if I did.

His eyes were filled with agony, but he turned, grabbed his luggage, and left me.

I sat on the bed for a moment, staring at his cufflink. I waited until I heard the front door close. A moment after that, I heard the car pulling away. Only then did I move. Tossing the cufflink in my hand and catching it, I went into Lock’s closet.

Lock had far more clothes than I did. All of his ties had separate small drawers in a large center cabinet. Every item in here was arranged by color, even his boxer briefs. He kept them folded with precision in a set of drawers on the east wall. His designer suits hung exactly one-half inch apart from each other. He had his shirts delivered from the dry cleaner every week, pressed and folded with cardboard as if he’d just brought them back from the store.

I went to the low dresser in the center of the closet and pulled out the small drawer with divider inserts. He owned four pairs of cufflinks, ten watches, and several rings. One square space was empty. I picked up the insert and looked underneath.

I knelt down, running my fingers through the plush blue carpet. Lock had it replaced every other year along with the other carpeting downstairs.

I went back out to the main room and checked the tops of every dresser. Lock kept his mostly clear save for a small wooden box with a red velvet lining. He kept a small pistol inside of it.

I scanned the carpet but saw nothing. I went down on my knees to look under the bed. Nothing there either. I almost stood up, but something caught my eye under my side of the bed. I reached for it and pulled out a blue envelope. It had been opened at one end, cut neatly. It had no postage. I sat on the bed and flipped the envelope over. I could feel a card inside. Written on the front in purple ink and small block letters, it read “Matt.”

Matt.

I shook my head as if I could clear my vision.

Matt.

I tipped the envelope sideways, so the card fell out of the slit. No bigger than a thank-you card. White with a metallic purple border. I read it.

I miss you already. Tonight was amazing. You were right. I feel like I’ve known you my whole life. Thank you for trusting me. I’m not scared of who you are. I want to see you again too. Soon. Just tell me when and where. I hope it’s not too forward of me to say that. I can’t wait. We’ll talk soon. C… your dove.

I couldn’t breathe.

Matt. Dove.

Matt Woodson. This couldn’t be what I thought it was.

TWENTY-FOUR

CORRINE

PJ didn’t say a word to me my whole shift. I ended the night with fifty-two dollars in my pocket. It would barely get me a tank of gas. In addition to my brother’s silent treatment, I got looks of pity from the bartender, two busboys, and half the customers.

I could have left. Cashed out. Disappeared upstairs. I wasn’t on the schedule again for two days. But I figured I might as well get it over with. If PJ and I didn’t talk, Sylvie would break into my apartment again and yell at me all over.

I found him in the office organizing invoices from his suppliers and making a mess of it. Sylvie usually did it. The fact that she wasn’t meant she’d lit into him just as hard as she did me.

I plopped down on the chair in front of his desk and put my feet up. He raised one eyebrow but didn’t otherwise acknowledge me.