I spend the meeting the next day wearing Jake’s sunglasses and nursing a hangover. My eyes are puffy and sore, and my head’s banging.

He put me to bed last night and left me alone until our first meeting this morning; he didn’t even push me to eat breakfast or jog with him for a change. I know he’s walking on eggshells, waiting to see how I am. He’s giving me space, or maybe he’s just looking at me and thinking I’m probably mentally broken and could fall apart any day ...