I sense her even before I hear her soft footsteps, and I’m filled with adrenaline and anguish when I look up to see her drifting down the staircase. Her bloodshot eyes make me wonder how many hours she spent crying. What the fuck have I done? “Joey?” Her name comes out like a plea. “Shouldn’t you be with your girlfriend?” She spits the last word like it’s poison on her tongue. “She’s not my girlfriend, I swear to you.”
