Charlie sprawled his lengthy limbs out on the couch as he lounged back, a tumbler balancing on his chest as he watched me pace across the living room rug.

I hadn't told him or anybody about Emma leaving—I hadn't had to. The press were having a bloody field day. Daily there were new articles making grand predictions on the current status of our relationship.

As soon as images of Emma & Youssef began populating the Internet, I gave Toni the green light to send in his ground team with two conditions.

One: They had to give enough distance so Emma wouldn't notice them.

Two: Under no circumstances were they to communicate anything about Emma to me.

The afternoon the first headlines broke, I'd left the office early to meet with Toni and found Charlie draped across my sofa. Every night since I'd come home and he'd been there. Sometimes we'd watched sports on the telly, other nights he silently scrolled through his phone and helped himself to my drink cart while I worked. Some evenings his near constant stream of conversation was the only thing that kept my sanity, and some evenings I just wanted to throttle him.

Tonight was the latter.

"Relax, Tommy—"

"Relax?!" I turned on him incredulously. "The love of my life ups and disappears only to be shacking up with—what did she call him? Oh right the bloody 'voice of a generation'!"

It had officially been a week—an entire week—since she had left and still no word. Nothing.

Charlie lazily tilted the rim of the tumbler to his lips. "She isn't his type."

"And how would you possibly know that?" I snapped.

"Because I shacked up with him, happy?"

That got me.

I stopped mid pace and turned to face him. "You and... Youssef?"

With the last dregs of his drink drained, Charlie sprung from the sofa and sauntered over to the corner where my drink cart stood.

"Christ this needs servicing..." He muttered as he lifted the nearly empty whiskey decanter.

I stood in place, still staring at him. "You're sleeping with Emma's best friend a-and literary idol?"

Charlie replaced the now empty decanter on the cart. "I'm not... we're not just..."

He looked at me almost... pleadingly. "You're really going to make me say it?"

"Say what?" I sputtered.

"We're dating!" He exclaimed in frustration. "We're seeing each other, have been ever since the night of the gala. It's how I know she's not his type because... because I am."

He took a swig of his drink and then handed it to me. "You look like you need this more than I do."

"You're dating. He's—you're his boyfriend."

Charlie hesitated and then nodded.

I shook my head. "Monogamously?"

With that, Charlie groaned and marched back to the drink cart. He grabbed a fresh glass and unceremoniously poured himself a new drink. Vodka by the looks of it.

"This is why I didn't tell you anything."

"Did you tell Emma?"

Charlie froze.

"I would've though," he said eventually. "If it'd come up. If... well, you know, if everything else hadn't come up."

We were both silent for a while, lost in our own thoughts.

I knew my family was fond of Emma, but I don't think I ever quite understood just how bonded they felt to her. They didn't say anything, of course, once she'd left—our family was nothing if not loyal—but in that moment I could feel it.

Emma hadn't just left me.

Sometimes I wondered if she knew how much she'd hurt me by leaving. If she knew and just didn't care. Now I wondered if she'd known just how many people she'd hurt, just how many people felt the sting of her absence.

I shook my head. Emma—my Emma—might have realized, but Recent Emma... she didn't even know when it was day or night.

I took a gulp of the amber liquid and hissed as it left a trail of fire down my esophagus."He's a good bloke, then?"

Charlie eyed me wearily. "You know he is."

I took another stiff drink and then nodded. "You trust him?"

He snorted in amusement. "I'm sleeping with him and I'm in the closet. Takes a bit of trust."

I nodded in agreement, as if I had any experience with hiding my sexual orientation.

Charlie sobered. "How about you? You trust Emma to come back?"

I downed the glass then and silently marched over to the cart.

"Tommy?"

I closed my eyes and tried to steady my breath.

"I did something reckless."

"You?" Charlie's laughter faded as he took in my grave expression.

"Even if she does come back..." My voice cracked slightly. "She'll never forgive me for it."

"Christ, man, what'd you do?"

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