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started to fall I could see more of Will’s house. A light was on in an upstairs room, shining steadily in the darkness. I didn’t know if it was Will’s room or not; I’d never been upstairs in his house. Upstairs was where his mother lay suffering. Dying, in point of fact, though no one knew how long it would be before that happened. Not long, by all accounts. I shook my head slowly. I couldn’t just find someone without issues. I had to pick the guy whose heart was breaking over something he couldn’t change.
    Even as I watched, the light went out. I pulled the shawl down over my knees and sipped my tea, feeling miserable. From the moment I’d met Will I’d known he was trouble, and I’d been moderately successful at keeping my distance—until the warm summer afternoon when he kissed me for the first time. I’d fallen, hard and fast, totally in love. I knew it was going to be complicated, given that his father and my mother had history with a capital H. But for the first couple of weeks, it was as close to perfect as you could get.
    We kept it a secret, or thought we had—sneaking out to meet at the end of the garden where the tangle of trees and shrubs meant we weren’t overlooked. Will was a regular visitor to Sandhayes, a friend of Hugo’s since forever. Because of his mother’s illness, my aunt Tilly liked to look after him. He came for meals, sitting across the table from me, setting my blood on fire every time he glanced in my direction with those silver-gray eyes that were anything but cold. He had kissed me in the dusty back room of the charity shop where I worked, while I protested (not very much) about having to get back to the till. He’d kissed me in the garden with leaves glowing green overhead and birds singing love songs in the branches above us. And he’d kissed me in the very room where I was sitting. I put my head down on my knees and sighed. I didn’t want to think about it, but somehow I couldn’t stop myself from playing it back.
    *   *   *
    I hear quick footsteps on the stairs, and Will calling to Hugo, telling him to go ahead without him. Hugo’s voice is raised in complaint and Will tells him to stop shouting because he’ll only be a minute. I go to the door, and when I open it he’s there. As he walks in he puts his finger on my mouth to stop me from saying anything. He kicks the door shut behind him with his heel, then pushes me against the wall. His breathing is fast and my heart is racing. His mouth is on mine, his hands tangled in my hair. I am deaf and blind to everything except him. When he breaks off and stands back, still breathing hard, I am dazed. His eyes are locked on mine, telling me beyond any doubt how he feels about me, and what he would do if we had longer than a single stolen minute. I reach for him and he kisses me again, twice, quickly, and then he leaves me without looking at me, without saying a word. I hear him running down the stairs, flight after flight, all the way to the hall. I’m still standing in the same place, one hand to my mouth, when I hear the front door bang.
    My lips feel bruised for hours afterward. Days.
    I have never been happier in my entire life.
    *   *   *
    I came back to the present with another sigh, and turned to look at the door where Will had kicked it. A black scuffmark was my constant reminder of what I had had, and what I had lost. As if I needed a reminder, frankly. I remembered every kiss. My body remembered every touch. Two months, and I still ached for him.
    So, basically, one minute, everything was amazing. The next, it was over. It was like dropping a crystal vase on a hard floor. Instant, total devastation.
    And I was the one who’d made it happen. I’d broken up with him for the best of reasons.
    It didn’t make it any easier to bear.
    I unfolded myself, stiff from sitting for so long in one position, and got ready for bed, still without putting on a light. It felt right to be in the dark. Once I was