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could be helpful, if he even wanted my help. We had made out, but it didn’t mean he wanted anything more from me.
    Kyle slid a hand over my hip and down to my front pocket. He slipped his hand into the pocket and pulled out my cell phone.
    “What’s your password?” he asked in a dead voice.
    “Um. Anna.” When he looked up at me with discerning eyes, I looked away.
    “Who’s Anna?”
    I gave a small shake of my head. I didn’t want to talk about it, at least not right then. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to discuss anything as serious as Anna with him. I was sure he was going to be done with me soon enough. I didn’t want to waste the pain it would cost me to tell that tale for someone who was probably already losing interest in me, and someone who had enough of his own problems at the moment.
    Kyle sighed and then unlocked my phone. He quickly dialed a number. I heard a woman a nswer on the third ring.
    “Eliza, it’s Kyle,” he said and the n stood up, disregarding the icepack. He tossed my t-shirt onto the chair he had just vacated. “Remember what we spoke about before I went on leave?” he asked her as he walked away from me.
    Kyle went into business mode, talking to this Eliza person. He went into the guest room where his office was set up. The desk was covered in files that he was rooting through as I walked by to go find a shirt that didn’t have blood all over it.
    I felt disgusting still wearing the same clothes I put on twenty-four hours before. I stepped into Kyle’s walk-in closet and was surprised by how organized it was. On one side his suits were arranged by color, as were his dress shirts. The other side held more casual clothes, also color coordinated. His shoes were arranged by type – dress, casual, and athletic. I took a more casual button down, blue shirt and then took a pair of boxers from a bureau in the bedroom. Judging by the snippets of conversation I was hearing from the other room, he was going to be awhile. I went into the master bath and stripped out of my day old clothes and started the shower.
    I honestly didn’t know how Kyle was going to feel about me rooting through his closet and drawers and subsequently borrowing his clothes, but when our little moment of time together ended, and I knew it would, I at least wanted to be wea ring clean underwear. Even if they weren’t mine.
    As I washed my hair with his shampoo, I tried to think of my week ahead and all of the things I had to do at SHOTZ and not about my morning in bed with Kyle or all of the things I learned about him. I tried to think about the alcohol I had to order, the upcoming inspection with the fire marshal, and the major scrub down the place needed, and not about Kyle’s tongue in my mouth and his hands cupping my breasts. I tried to focus on the event I was having at the bar on Valentine’s Day that would benefit local cancer patients, and not the fact that all of the things I had learned about Kyle not only didn’t truly repel me, but made me feel a little deeper for him. He reminded me of a lost little boy who had been very ill behaved and now he was just trying to redeem himself but no one noticed or cared.
    But it didn’t matter what I thought or what I felt. Even though he wanted to kiss me so badly, I knew it wasn’t really about me . As he said himself, he was fucked up in the head, and I didn’t disagree. After his faux father’s visit, there was no disputing that. He was fucked up in the head pre-Emmy, but I believe he went over the edge when he beat her and he was still in the pit he had fallen into. I was just another warm body who happened to be occupying the same space with him. I was replaceable and forgettable.
    I didn’t want to have to have that uncomfortable conversation, about how he was sorry he made a mistake, etc. I already knew it was a mistake, but I didn’t need it said to my face. After I got out of the shower, I quickly dressed in Kyle’s clothes and pulled my own jeans back