"Suit yourself. Now, please, leave."

But he just gave a cool, slight smile and said, "Just so you know, the Hiltons would never take someone like you as their daughter-in-law." My laughter was even more desolate than his.

His mother had married a struggling artist, and the Hiltons had looked down upon her for it.

So, he was warning me that I'd get the same cold shoulder from the Hiltons that he did.

But Maximilian, I was determined to win you over!

After Claude left, I glanced at my digital lock. When setting it up, I was too lazy to think of a new code, so I used Claude's birthday.

If he was brave enough to try, he could have opened the door himself.

But he didn't believe my feelings for him, carved deeply into my bones, lasted ten years.

Time for a change.

The code was now set to 6088, the number of the hotel room on the night of my rebirth. Stepping inside, the elevator doors closed behind me.

I caught one last glimpse of Max. He looked so tired, carrying a forensic toolkit in his hand.

Had he been at the detective bureau again? Was there another burnt body case?

should probably just have a

shower, I vigorously scrubbed the

curled up on the couch to watch TV, but then the

fresh casual

door, just quietly watched

his usually unflappable

indirectly, I died once, and so did my child, in this life that child didn't come looking for me either. Should I

precise target

the crockpot at my door, then tried

door, he

monitor, indeed, he hung up, gave a serious look at the camera, and then

I clicked the lock.

didn't go out to pick up what he'd

truly embracing depression, fluctuating between drawing him in and

maybe, who could really understand the struggle of being on the edge of death, feeling completely

A sleepless night followed.

morning, as I headed to work, the crockpot

his apartment door, I pressed the elevator button to

Tracey before work, as she sent me another threatening message this morning: Don't pass on the wine

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