As we’re drifting off to sleep, I hear his phone start to buzz on the nightstand. He goes to reach for it, but I pull his hands back around me. “Leave it for the morning,” I beg. “It’ll be fine. Just hold me.”
He looks at me, sighs, and comes back to wrap me up again. We fall asleep like that. It’s the best moment of my life.
I wake up in the early hours of the morning. I’m cold, shivering. I hear motion. The rustling of cloth. Rolling over and rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I see Tommy stepping into his jeans and putting on his boots. His movements are tight and angry.
“What’s wrong?” I ask blearily.
It’s like someone replaced Tommy with an ice-cold marble statue that moves and breathes and looks exactly like him. He doesn’t so much as blink to acknowledge my presence.
“Tommy, wha
