That evening, I spent most of my time in the room, a prisoner of my own thoughts. I wondered if I'd done the right thing by staying, or if I should just cut my losses and leave.

All day, I'd eaten, stared blankly ahead, eaten again, and then retreated back to the bed. The day had been a blur of forced smiles and stilted conversations with Danielle, and I was exhausted.

She'd been too nice, and it was grating on my nerves.

I was dressed in my favorite pajamas from New York—a ridiculously soft, long-sleeved top and trousers in bright blue, a matching set Susan and I had bought together....