He was pale, I was pale. We both faced each other silently. It wasn’t fun anymore, now that I knew the truth about everything. His wife had an affair, and then died. The words kept running over and over in my mind. His life was more serious than I thought. Filled with dark crevices of haunting memories, living in complete, lonely darkness.

I wanted to say something, but it was one of those moments where anything, perfect or not would sound awkward and ridiculous, and anything beyond comfort. He sat there, drifting off, as if I wasn’t even there. I stepped back, and looked down at myself, it felt eerie to wear a dead person’s clothes.

“Do…do you mind if I go for a second? I need some fresh air,” I said, shifiting nervously.

“No, not at all…” he said hopelessly.

“Pierre,” I said making my way towards him, “I’m…I…I’ll be right back.”

I closed the door behind me as I left, my passion drained. Izzy lived on the floor above Pierre’s, and I needed her now more than ever.