The room spun softly around Suzy as she slumped deeper into the couch, her phone glowing like a tiny sun in her hand. The empty wine glass on the table tilted dangerously close to spilling, and the half-finished bottle beside it mocked her. She’d sworn she wouldn’t do this again — wouldn’t think about him, wouldn’t feel that ache clawing up from somewhere she couldn’t name.

But loneliness had a cruel way of breaking promises.

Cole’s contact stared back at her, the little photo ...