A hand taps my shoulder and I jolt up from my chair. “Heyyy, you scared me!” I yell at Zara.

Zara smiles, her face still rough with sleep.

“You’re still up?” she asks, then she goes ahead to sit at the edge of my bed.

I shake my head at the level of shame that’s crushing down on me, yet again.

It feels just like when I had to tell her about my divorce.

“I keep making terrible choices, babe,” I laugh out, but I feel terrible.

“Babe! I supported him too. I ...