"So we are both rather broken," Asher snaps, "That, I think, we both knew." He faces down Nathaniel, angry and confused and hurt and aching from head to toe. He sways a little on his feet, trying to seem intimidating and failing as he gropes for his bedpost, lowering himself onto the bed, blinking away a sudden bout of dizziness.

"I cannot say I regret what happened, because I do not. I would go to Jean-Claude again, if he asked. Anita too." His voice is weary, resigned. "I do not know what you expect me to do."