“How’s Cassie?” “She hasn’t been in the apartment in days, Lily,” he says, reminding me of all the time I lost in my hazy state. “What happened?” My chest lightens, and I hate that I’m taking pleasure in his aloneness. “There’s this girl who ran out of my apartment.” He pauses. “She looked like a bat out of hell. She barely combed her hair, not unusual for her”—he shrugs—“but she seemed pissed, and the only difference in our relationship had been this new blonde girl on a bar stool. So I dumped her, figured it may solve a problem or two.” He waits, tilting his head at me while I process what
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