I wake up in bed to the gentle strumming of what sounds like Arry’s guitar and blink in the darkness of the apartment bedroom. I crawled in here when I got back and willed myself to try and sleep in his absence and must have finally passed out.

I sit up and listen hard to what might have been a dream, but I hear it again, soft, distant, like he’s playing his guitar but not near the couch where he would normally sit. I blink awake, realizing he may be home, and pull myself upright ...