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swinging his legs inside and slamming the door shut. I give Joe a kiss on the cheek, whispering my thanks, and run to the other side of the cab and slip inside.
    “Where to?” the cabbie asks.
    Shit, where’s he staying? “Max, what hotel are you at?”
    I get no response from him, just the empty stare before he rests his forehead on the window. I push him forward and wedge my hand into the back pocket of his jeans. He doesn’t even seem to care that I’ve practically grabbed his ass. But the effort is rewarded with his hotel room key and the sleeve with the room number written on it.
    “Gramercy Park Hotel, please.”
    When we arrive, I ask the doorman for help getting Max out of the cab as I pay the fare. I get the impression this isn’t the first time he’s had to take care of the hotel guests in this way. He gets Max into the lobby, and luckily, Max walks steadily enough to steer him to the elevators and down the hall to his room. I note that there’s a Do Not Disturb sign hanging on his door handle, and I hesitate for a moment, wondering what nightmare I’m going to face when I get him inside. I take a deep breath and swing the door open.
    Once inside, I’m initially distracted by the décor: dark red walls and ebony antique wood furniture with heavy dark velvet couches and chairs.
    No badly printed hotel art in this place, I note. Instead, an impressive collection of black and white photography hangs strategically throughout the suite.
    I exhale with relief, noting there’s no naked woman sprawled across the couch or bed. I lead Max to the bedroom and push him down to sit on the edge of the bed. He’s despondent in his movements and still staring straight ahead. He’s starting to freak me out.
    I get a bottle of water from the bar area, and fish in my purse for the bottle of aspirin. I open the water and hand it to him.
    “Drink,” I command.
    After he has taken some water, I push two aspirin in his mouth and command him to drink more. He complies, but when he’s done, he leans forward, rests his elbows on his knees and puts his face in his hands while exhaling a long sigh of despair.
    I stand back, wondering what to do next. I decide he needs sleep , so I kneel down and slowly pull off his boots. He doesn’t help, but he doesn’t stop me either. When I gently pull off his socks, he looks down and watches what I’m doing. I look into his eyes, and see heartbreaking sadness.
    “It’s okay. You’ll feel better after you rest.”
    Realizing his turtleneck is much too hot to sleep in, I rise and peel the sweater over his shoulders. I look down and my breath catches.
    His body’s so beautiful, I think, staring at the definition along his chest and abdomen.
    When I finally get the sweater over his head, his hair is a mad frenzy, and I resist the urge to run my fingers through it. I decide he’d better sleep in his pants, since I’m not going to take them off—for more than one reason. Our eyes meet again, and there’s a curious expression mixed in with his sadness.
    He watches me as I remove the layers of decorative velvet pillows from the bed before I gently push him back against the remaining linen pillow and lift his feet up onto the bed. I turn on the bedside lamp to the dimmest setting and shut off the overhead light. The room’s dark now but for a faint glow from the lamp. I can no longer clearly see the expression on his face.
    “Goodnight, Max,” I whisper as I turn to leave. I’m halfway into the sitting room when I hear his voice.
    “Ava,” he calls.
    I stop and hold my breath.
    “Ava!” There’s more urgency to his tone this time.
    I step back into the doorway of the bedroom. “Yes, Max?”
    His hand reaches out from under the comforter. “Please don’t leave me, Ava. Please don’t leave.”
    There’s such agony in his voice. I’ve never heard anything so sad—a black arrow to my heart. Knowing he needs me to stay stirs up confusing emotions for me.
    I stand still for