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Ragged skin hung at the edge of her right thumbnail where she chewed it off with imperfect teeth, only to pick at it again. The clock hands revealed that ten minutes remained ‘til the hour, past the point where she could logistically back out. Even if she opened the hotel door and eased out into the hall, the odds were she would only just run into him. She couldn’t hide and just not answer the door. He had a key waiting in the lobby. She picked at the cuticle on her right hand, with not quite steady fingers.

She had planned this, initiated it even. There was no need to deny it. In the abstract, it had seemed very attractive, just the thing to distract and get even. Now with reality settling in, she wondered if she was just going to be hurting herself.

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