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I switched the phone to silent and tried futilely to pass out again. As I waited for sleep, my brain switched into overdrive and all I could think of ...as Stephen. I was annoyed with myself. Then, out of nowhere, my stomach knotted up and I had to dash to the bathroom. I barely made it to the toilet before I threw up. I felt like shit. I sat on Cara’s bathroom floor for at least half an hour while my stomach tortured me. I vomited four times before the dry heaves took over, and I thought I was. Introductions were made, refreshments were offered, and the ritual of the Christmas party began. She dutifully made idle conversation with various people as she watched me move through the room speaking to each person, smiling, laughing, making the rounds. At times, she would notice how a woman would touch me as they spoke . . . just a hand on the arm . . . and the easy way in which I would return the touch . . . seemingly casual and innocent. She could not help but wonder if those women felt. More

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