He sighed softly as he entered the third floor hallway, feeling suddenly even colder than he had outside in the rain. The extra bedroom Caitlin had spent the night in was the first he passed, and even the sight of its closed door filled him with a fresh rush of the desperate heartache that had been his constant companion over the past week. The one night Caitlin had spent in his house out of necessity had been enough to transform it, imprinting each facet of its structure with her memory. Every staircase spanned a journey to the depths of his misery, and an agonising recollection waited behind each door; a sudden flash of the exact shade of pink her cheeks went when he kissed her, seen by his mind’s eye, or a memory of her hair brushing his cheek, so vivid he almost thought it was real. Shutting his eyes against the sight of the hall where they had walked together, he pushed open his bedroom door. Here, at least, was a place she hadn’t been.