Chap­ter II begins on a cold morn­ing in New York City, where Addie awak­ens wrapped in the com­fort­ing warmth of a Colum­bia sweat­shirt belong­ing to Hen­ry. As the pale light of dawn breaks over Brook­lyn, she stands by the win­dow, gaz­ing out at the qui­et city, the cold glass con­trast­ing against the soft warmth sur­round­ing her. The scent of Henry’s sweat­shirt wraps around her, offer­ing a strange sense of calm that seems to soothe the deep, shad­owy places of her heart. His pres­ence stirs a mix­ture of emo­tions with­in her, both famil­iar and for­eign, and she finds her­self torn between the sense of com­fort he pro­vides and the pecu­liar new­ness of their con­nec­tion. Addie feels an inex­plic­a­ble pull, and though her past expe­ri­ences have taught her to remain dis­tant, some­thing about Hen­ry’s pres­ence draws her in—a steady, peace­ful force that is dis­tinct from the rest of her tumul­tuous exis­tence.

As she stands there, her mind briefly flash­es to Luc, a fig­ure from her past whose shad­ow seems to haunt every step she takes. But the thought dis­si­pates just as quick­ly as it came, leav­ing Henry’s tran­quil nature at the fore­front of her thoughts. She retreats from the win­dow to the warmth of the bed, where Hen­ry sleeps sound­ly, his peace­ful demeanor a stark con­trast to the chaos of her own inner world. She finds her­self won­der­ing about the strange yet com­fort­ing sen­sa­tion he brings, even though she knows very lit­tle about him beyond what has tran­spired between them. Her curios­i­ty grows as she con­tem­plates his pres­ence in her life, a peace­ful haven amidst the con­fu­sion and uncer­tain­ty that have marked her exis­tence for so long.

Though the temp­ta­tion to delve deep­er into Hen­ry’s belong­ings grows—specifically a watch inscribed with the words “Live well”—Addie choos­es restraint. She resists the urge to inves­ti­gate, opt­ing instead for the sim­plic­i­ty of rejoin­ing him in bed, where the qui­et, unspo­ken bond between them is felt more deeply than any mate­r­i­al dis­cov­ery. Their morn­ing exchange is gen­tle and com­fort­able, filled with soft words and unspo­ken under­stand­ing, sig­nal­ing an emerg­ing con­nec­tion between them. Henry’s ques­tion about Addie’s liv­ing sit­u­a­tion leads to a reveal­ing moment where she admits the tran­sient nature of her life, always mov­ing from one tem­po­rary refuge to the next, nev­er tru­ly set­tled any­where. Her words speak to a deep­er truth—she has no per­ma­nent space in the world, no place to call her own, and the city around her, full of ever-chang­ing faces and fleet­ing encoun­ters, only ampli­fies this feel­ing of imper­ma­nence.

As they con­tin­ue to talk, Hen­ry makes an unex­pect­ed offer for her to stay longer than just the present moment. His pro­pos­al isn’t just a casu­al suggestion—it car­ries a sin­cer­i­ty and open­ness that sur­pris­es Addie. She feels a mix­ture of emo­tions: hes­i­ta­tion, fear, and a glim­mer of hope, all of which swirl with­in her as she con­tem­plates the offer. She’s been so accus­tomed to liv­ing in the mar­gins of exis­tence, her life a col­lec­tion of tem­po­rary stops and expe­ri­ences that nev­er seem to set­tle into per­ma­nence, and now Hen­ry is offer­ing some­thing she nev­er thought she’d have—a place, a space, a pos­si­bil­i­ty of some­thing last­ing. Yet, the prac­ti­cal­i­ty of her sit­u­a­tion, com­bined with the weight of her past and her curse, makes her won­der if such a thing is even pos­si­ble. Her inabil­i­ty to retain phys­i­cal con­nec­tions with oth­ers leaves her won­der­ing whether stay­ing with Hen­ry could ever lead to any­thing endur­ing.

Despite these doubts, Henry’s ges­ture speaks vol­umes. He is offer­ing not just a place to stay, but a chance at some­thing more—an accep­tance of her pres­ence in his life, even if she has noth­ing sub­stan­tial to offer in return. This sim­ple yet pro­found act—offering space for her belong­ings and extend­ing a gen­uine invi­ta­tion for her to stay—symbolizes the human desire for con­nec­tion, even when faced with the unknown. It is a qui­et moment of vul­ner­a­bil­i­ty and under­stand­ing, where Addie’s tran­sient, root­less exis­tence meets Henry’s will­ing­ness to make room for her, even as he knows very lit­tle about her true nature. This invi­ta­tion rep­re­sents the frag­ile beau­ty of human con­nec­tion, a rare and del­i­cate thing in Addie’s life, where every­thing she holds dear is often for­got­ten, erased by the curse that defines her exis­tence.

Henry’s offer serves as a sub­tle break­through in their rela­tion­ship, a sym­bol­ic ges­ture that opens the door to the pos­si­bil­i­ty of sta­bil­i­ty and belong­ing, some­thing Addie has longed for but has nev­er tru­ly expe­ri­enced. As Addie con­tem­plates his ges­ture, she is remind­ed of the many moments in her life where she was forced to move on, nev­er able to stay, nev­er allowed to leave a per­ma­nent mark. Henry’s will­ing­ness to make space for her, both phys­i­cal­ly and emo­tion­al­ly, offers a flick­er of hope in her oth­er­wise imper­ma­nent world. It is a moment of qui­et accep­tance, where she can briefly imag­ine a life where her pres­ence mat­ters, where she isn’t forced to fade into the back­ground of oth­er people’s lives. In the midst of the com­plex­i­ties of her exis­tence, Addie finds a rare sense of belong­ing, and for the first time in a long while, she dares to hope for some­thing that lasts.