The difficulty she had sleeping with anyone in the bed next to her had paled next to the sleepless hours she’d been through the past few nights. It was alarming how great a vacuum Shay had left behind. It wasn’t just the sex—she missed laughing with him, saving up things to tell him, talking shop at the end of the day. When she tossed and turned at night, she told herself that it didn’t matter, she was fine on her own, she didn’t need anyone around. She told herself that he’d be back. But the phone hadn’t rung, there’d been no knock at the door. Time, she told herself as she tried to brighten up her face with blusher. She’d get used to it in time. It was probably just as well that it had ended when it had, before she’d gotten too used to having him around. Anyway, it wasn’t just thinking about Shay that was keeping her up. For almost as long as she could remember, she’d had problems sleeping—sleepwalking, nightmares that jolted her awake at 3:00 a.m., weeks of staring up at the ceiling at night, every muscle in her body crying out for rest while slumber remained stubbornly elusive.
