He’d stopped trying.

She came back when she felt like it, in dreams and lies and broken-down déjà vu.

He’d be driving to work, and he’d see a girl with silver hair standing at the corner-and he’d swear, for half a second, that it was her.

Then he’d see that the girl’s hair was more blonde than silver.

And that she was holding a cigarette …

Andréa hated people that smoked.

Andréa…

Standing next to him. Lying next to him. Making everyone around him the most boring people in the world.

Andréa ruined everything.

Andréa, gone.

She was gone.

He’d stop trying to bring her back.