The hour between nine and ten was the longest century of my life. I lay perfectly still under the weight of Alessandro’s arm, counting his respirations. Every deep, rhythmic exhale was a second closer to my death or my life. The air in the room felt thick, charged with the ozone of a coming storm.

At 9:45 PM, Alessandro shifted in his sleep, his arm sliding off my waist as he turned toward the window. I didn't breathe. I waited for the tell-tale sign of him settling back into the deep, ...