You can’t sleep. The pipes are making their noise again. They probably make this noise every night, but most nights you don’t notice. The house is either full of noise with you and Heather or you’re, as you put it, over served, and don’t notice.

But tonight you do.

Heather is next to you, and you turn on your side to look at her. The tips of her hair are on her shoulder. She got it cut earlier today. If she was awake she’d be annoyed. But instead she snores a melody so rhythmic it should put you to sleep.

But it doesn’t.

It aggravates you. Like most things these days.

You get out of bed and go to the kitchen, pouring a nice big glass of water from the pitcher in the fridge. You think of lighting a cigarette but stop short- it’s been years since you smoked. Still, if there was a pack available you would light one right now- to slow down and think about Amanda.

How long has it been since you smoked?

No matter.

When you last saw Amanda she threw a kiss at you in that flirty way she does.

But you knew it wasn’t sincere.

You had already found the letter she had written to Heather the week before.