Talking from downstairs woke me the next morning.

Jessica’s spot was empty, but the sheets felt warm beneath my touch. She hadn’t been up long. I briefly wondered why she was up when she’d stayed up to

read. Not that the lack of sleep seemed to bother her truthfully.

I swung my feet to the floor and rubbed my palm over my face. Jessica’s scent was heavy in the air. It was a mixture of flowers, nerves and something woodsy.

I couldn’t explain it. It had ...