I fall asleep waiting for the sound of the door opening, for his step on the wooden floor. But when I wake, I am still alone. No lamps are lit. No pillows moved. Nothing is changed. I sit upright. Perhaps he spent all the rest of the morning and afternoon in the Court of Shadows, playing darts with the Ghost and checking on the Roach’s healing. But I can more easily imagine him in the great hall, overseeing the last dregs of the night’s revelry and swilling gallons of wine, all to avoid lying beside me in bed.
