He fell onto the bed and kicked off his shoes. His pants followed and he lay on his back in his shirt still buttoned and his tie still in its Windsor knot. He lay there alone, fucking alone again. He missed the unpredictable girl he met weeks earlier.

Boehler. Boehler. Boehler.

Judith. Judith. Jude.

He missed her.

And he wanted her back.

Reaching down into his pants pocket, he pulled his phone out, and flipped to his photos. He regarded the photo he took of her when she hadn’t been looking. It was the saddest picture he had ever seen. Jude was listening, looking at Clara at dinner. But her eyes held no life, no energy, not the girl he’d met at his parents’ party. She looked like no one at all. Not even Judith. She was empty.

All night he fought against exposing them to the others, revealing that not only did he know her, but that he might have real feelings for her. But when they were apart, something happened to her, something distressing, something destructive.

But what?

PRIVILEGES WERE EARNED.

Like a child, Jude earned back her freedom half hour by half hour. After an acceptable day, she was rewarded thirty minutes to leave on her own. Two days after that, an hour. She waited, counting the days, until she had earned two full hours. It took seven days, but that’s what it would take to get there and back in time.

The second Monday after she had last seen Hazel, she sat at a deli across from his apartment building. She only had fifty minutes left to risk. Traffic was too unpredictable and she didn’t dare be late.

The first day she had spied on him, she made it back home with ten minutes to spare. She only wished her heart had been spared in the process. She didn’t know why she chose to sit and wait opposed to knocking on his door. Maybe she only needed to see him happy—happy without her—so she could walk away once and for all. She could take their week together and pocket it like she pocketed all the things that mattered most to her. Like her brother. She had thought the hole her brother had left in her heart was healing, but it throbbed without Hazel, a constant reminder of the gaping wound.

On the third day, she figured out why she hadn’t been able to go to his apartment. She knew she had to stay as far from his apartment as she could. Her favorite memories resided there. And if she were brave enough to talk to him again, it would have to be in neutral territory. By the following Sunday she was in full stalking mode, determined. But it was Sunday and by the time she arrived, she didn’t know if he had already left his apartment or if he would leave.

Another hot chocolate was ordered and she sat on a barstool facing the street. When he appeared, coming out of his apartment building, she spilled her drink just as she took a sip. Just seeing him again sent a thrill through her body. The last time she’d been dealing with the effects of mind-numbing drugs. In hindsight, she wished they would’ve worked on her heart instead.

Jumping up, she threw the cup away and ran outside. She only had five minutes. Five minutes left before she had to leave for home, so she ran across the street, jaywalking, and almost getting hit by a cab.

The honking of the car didn’t faze Taylor. It was Manhattan and honking horns were a part of the melody here. He shoved his hands into his pockets and kept walking. Until…

“Hazel! Wait!”

He’d been hurt. There was no sense in hiding it anymore. He never believed his own lie anyway. But hearing that name stung, deep. He didn’t want to assume, but when he heard it again, and again, he couldn’t stop himself from turning around. His mouth opened in surprise as he saw Jude running toward him, arms flailing, causing a complete scene.

And he smiled.

She stopped just short of him, out of breath, and bending over at the waist to recover.

He said, “You’re here.”

Looking up at him, she looked relieved. “I am. For you.”

“Why?”

“Because I owe you an apology. I’m sorry. You deserved better than I gave you.”

Seeing her now, he struggled to be mad, and considered the good times they’d shared. “You gave me everything I needed.”

She shook her head. “I mean at that dinner.” Finally in control of her breathing again, she stood up straight. “I hated that you saw me that way, but it happened. I just need a few minutes to explain.” She checked the time on her watch. One minute left. “But I can’t today. Maybe another time?”

“Why? Why not now?”

“I have to go.”

“No!”

His anger and pain vibrated though her, her heart still tethered to the man before her. “This is not what I wante—”

Stepping closer, he almost touched her to see if she was real. “What do you want, Jude?”

“I want you to live a gloriously happy life. And that can’t be with me.”

Only the tips of his fingers touched her coat, but the sensation spread throughout her whole body. He whispered, “One week wasn’t enough.”

“One week is all we have.” She backed away, needing to leave, but not wanting to leave him again. She has to fight her instincts, to protect herself from what will happen if she doesn’t. “Maybe we shouldn’t meet again. I don’t want to hurt you any more than I have.”

“I’ll meet you. Just say when, Jude. I’ll do it. I’ll take what I can.”

She understood his desperation. She felt that for him, but she had no idea until just then how much he felt for her. She couldn’t refuse him, just like she couldn’t refuse herself this one last taste, this one last time with him. He’ll hate her soon enough. She would savor any time she could get. “Tomorrow? I can meet you between eleven and two.”

“I have two meetings tomorrow. Can you come over tomorrow night? We can make dinner and talk.”

“No,” she said, “I can’t.” Flustered, she started walking backward. “I have to go, but soon.”

He stepped forward. “Don’t leave. We can talk now.”

Holding up her arm and touching her watch, she tried to explain, “I can’t right now. I’m sorry. Soon.”

“I’m going to hold you to that, Jude Boehler. I’ve got your name and number now.” He smiled so innocently, but Jude’s blood iced in her veins.

“No!” She stopped suddenly, in the middle of the sidewalk and went back to him. “You can’t come for me. Promise me you won’t come over.”

Her rapid transformation sent up a million red flags of concern. He’d have more to address than her constant disappearances the next time he saw her.

“Okay.” He told her what she wanted to hear, but it pained him to agree. He wanted to see her. This was his Jude—all over the place, a crazy hat on, wrinkled skirt, and red snow boots—and he was holding himself in place so he didn’t grab her and take her inside to talk now. Instead, he watched her nod as she backed away again.

In return, she gave him a small, familiar smile, then blew him a kiss. “Soon,” she said. “I promise.”

While she walked away from him, he realized how much he had missed her, missed Jude. “Tuesday,” he yelled down the street. “Meet me here on Tuesday at noon.”

She waved, and even with the distance between them, he could see that life had returned to her eyes. She was vibrant. Kodachrome. She was that rainbow she’d spoken of the first time he’d met her, come to life. “I’ll be here,” she called back to him before rounding the corner.

He couldn’t stop his smile in return.

On Tuesday, Taylor left work early to get back to his apartment by noon. He didn’t want to be late. He didn’t want to keep her waiting, so he took a taxi. The cab pulled up out front and he saw Jude leaning against the wall looking from left to right for him. She didn’t notice him right in front of her until it was too late. He cupped her face and kissed her. When he leaned back to look her in the eyes, he said, “You use impossible a lot. Well, I find it impossible to resist your lips.” He kissed her again. “Let’s go upstairs.”