“I thought about calling Chloe this afternoon,” I said, raising the cup toward my mouth.

Daniel watched me closely over the rim of his espresso, his fingers tight around the dark ceramic handle.

“I wouldn’t recommend driving over to her apartment,” he said softly.

“Not while you’re having these sudden memory lapses.”

“I haven’t had a memory lapse,” I said.

“You forgot where the thermometer was this morning,” he said, taking a slow sip.

“And you left the hallway lights on all night.”

I brought the mug to my lips, letting the bitter hot liquid fill my mouth without letting a drop go down my throat.