The subway to work is crowded as usual, even at this early hour; the smell and noise are overwhelming. I’m overly fragile, and nausea plagues me these days; the stress of moving offices and away from Jake is making me physically ill.  

I check my watch for the fiftieth time this morning.  

I’m late again. What the hell is wrong with me lately?  

I groan inwardly. I can’t seem to get my head together or get back on track with anything. Giovanni Carrero has yelled ...