It took another hour of laying on the couch before I felt ready to get up. Even then, it was only to stagger over to find some aspirin and another glass of juice.

When the painkillers had kicked in, my head cleared slightly and I had the sudden realisation that I wasn't wearing anything underneath the sweatshirt I had on. I cringed when I thought back to the fact that Lucas had come round when I was dressed like this.

Shaking my head, I wandered down to the bathroom to use the toilet. When I sat down, I could see my dress and underwear from the night before where I had thrown it on the floor. The clothes I had been wearing when I last saw Tony. When I stabbed him in the neck. And when I stood there looking at him laying face down in a pool of his own blood as he slowly bled to death.

I slid off the toilet, before spinning around and vomiting into the bowl. The thought of Tony had twisted my stomach. The sight of his cold lifeless body flashed before my eyes. Laying under a pile of trash. Probably with rats crawling over him.

The image was too much, and I vomited again until my stomach was completely empty and I was just dry heaving. I couldn't get the thought of Tony out of my head. I needed something to help me forget.

Something else to drink, that was what I needed. And probably some more aspirin too. They would have both of those things at the bodega across the street. And maybe a sandwich too while I was there, they sold some really nice pastrami over there last time I visited.

Though I couldn't go over there dressed like this, I needed clothes. But then, I couldn't be bothered to get dressed properly either. Instead I staggered over to the laundry hamper in the corner of the bathroom. I fished out the pair of jeans I had worn a few days ago, and tried to put them on. But my head was still too dizzy, and I nearly went tumbling to the floor.

When did getting dressed become so difficult? I sat down on the edge of the bathtub, and finally managed to get my feet into the right holes so I could get the jeans on. The sneakers also seemed challenging as I went to leave my apartment. The laces mocked me. I threw them away in disgust and grabbed a pair of sliders instead.

The walk over to the bodega was refreshing, in a most unwelcome way. Heading over the crosswalk woke me up more than I wanted. I just wanted to shut off and forget. To distract myself from anything that would make me think of Tony again.

But there it was, I had thought of him again. As I got to the other side of the street, my heart was pounding in my chest and my skin felt cold and clammy. I was shaking as I went into the bodega.

"Hey. How ya doin?" asked the guy behind the counter, whose name I couldn't remember. "Woah, you look wack."

"Thanks," I groaned.

"Yeah nah, you look mad wasted tho," he said. "A chopped cheese, that'll put you right."

"Yeah, that sounds good. Thank you," I said.

While he was making the sandwich, I went around and grabbed some Tylenol and a packet of dried ramen. Then, around the next aisle, I picked up a bottle of wine. When I got back to the counter, the guy had finished making my sandwich.

By the time I had paid and started to walk back to my apartment, I was starting to feel better. The combination of fresh air and having something else to focus on, seemed to have had a good effect. I unwrapped the sandwich and took a bite as I went up the stairs. The mixture of ground beef and cheese actually made my stomach feel better somehow.

For the rest of the weekend, my mood was up and down. As I recovered from my hangover, my mood felt better. But then, every time I remembered what had happened to Tony, I felt worse. The guilt gnawed at my stomach, and kept sending waves of nausea through me. Then I turned to the bottle of wine to clear my mind of all the negative thoughts, and so the cycle started again.

In one of my moments of clarity, I picked up all my dirty clothes to take down to the laundry room. When I did, I found my little clutch bag on the floor, underneath my dress. I must have just dropped it there when I was getting undressed, though I didn't remember doing that.

The first thing I noticed was the handle of the gun sticking out. It had been Tony's gun, which I had taken after I killed him. I gingerly reached down and carefully pulled the gun out from the bag. Looking at it for a moment, I got the feeling that maybe it would be a good idea to keep the gun for my own protection. Although I didn't actually know how to use one. That would be something to learn about on another day.

I just needed somewhere to hide it. Looking around the bathroom, my eyes settled on the little cabinet under the washbasin. That was where I stored the spare toilet paper, along with my sanitary products. Opening the door, I tucked the gun to the back of the cabinet, behind a box of tampons.

The other thing that was in my bag, was the actual murder weapon. The knife I used to stab Tony. It was wrapped in a cloth, and still covered in his blood. That was something I definitely needed to get rid of. But as soon as I saw the bundle of cloth, it triggered my memories. An image of the knife still embedded in Tony's neck filled my brain.

I wasn't coping any better by the time Monday morning rolled around. I was awake before my alarm clock went off, and reached out for the off switch as a formality. In my heart, I wasn't ready to see Joe. But I also knew that I couldn't afford to act suspiciously.

There was no reason for me to miss work today. As far as I was supposed to know, Tony was just missing, and I had nothing to do with it. If I skipped work or acted guilty, then maybe it would point the blame in my direction. I knew I would break if anyone questioned me too hard, so I couldn't afford to take that risk.

But knowing that didn't make it any easier to do it. The whole subway ride over to the coffee shop was filled with dread. I was shaking and I felt damp and clammy with sweat. I had to stop off at a Starbucks on the way to grab a coffee and try to settle my nerves.

When I reached the coffee shop, I suddenly wondered if Joe would even be there. Maybe if his son had gone missing he would be too worried to come to work? That would certainly make it easier for me. But unfortunately, when I opened the door, I saw Joe was standing behind the counter as usual.

Except, it wasn't completely normal. Joe looked different from usual. He had stubble on his chin, instead of where he would usually be clean shaven. He also had dark bags under his eyes, and a slightly more pale complexion. In short, he looked terrible.

"Hey, are you okay?" I asked, even though I already knew the answer.

"No, it's my son," he said. "I think he's got himself in trouble."

"Yeah, I, umm, heard about it from Lucas,". I said. "Hopefully he's okay."

Joe didn't respond, he just stood silently polishing a milk jug. I couldn't look at him any longer, and hurried out to the back to get changed into my uniform.

I had to take a few deep breaths when I was out of sight. The guilt I felt was almost overpowering. I had to focus. There were two things I needed to do. Firstly, I had to act normal and do my job like I was supposed to. And secondly, I would need to dispose of the knife.

I had brought the knife with me in my backpack. The coffee shop seemed like the perfect place to get rid of the knife. It did come from here, afterall, so this would be the perfect place to hide it. If I could just drop it in the dishwasher with the other dirty knives, it would disappear.

When I came out after getting dressed, Joe was still standing vacantly behind the counter. It seemed the ideal time to dump the knife. With my backpack in my hand, I walked through to the kitchen.

The door to the dishwasher was open, and the rack appeared to be about half full of dishes and cutlery. I took a quick look around the corner to check that Joe wasn't looking. Then I opened my backpack and quickly took out the knife.

There was still dried blood all over the knife, but I hoped that the dishwasher would take care of that. I dropped the knife in with the rest of the items to be cleaned, then pushed the rack into place and shut the door. I muttered a quick prayer as I pushed the start button, and the dishwasher began its cleaning cycle.

When I left the kitchen, Joe was still standing behind the counter. He was making a coffee for a customer, but he seemed to be moving in slow motion. It was like he had lost all his motivation. I couldn't watch this. He was obviously upset, and it was all my fault. I had to do something to get rid of him. If I had to watch him all sad and moody all day, I was going to crack.

"Hey boss, do you need me to make that?" I asked. "Maybe you could stay in the kitchen?"

"Yeah, thanks," Joe mumbled, then he put down the cup and shuffled off towards the kitchen.

I picked up the cup, and went to finish the drink order. Although, I didn't know what I was supposed to be making. I looked around to see if Joe had left a note.

"Soy latte, with an extra shot," the customer said, when he noticed my confusion.

"Right, I'm on it," I said, then set about making his drink.

Just as I had finished the drink, and handed it to the customer, I heard the sound of the coffee shop door opening. It swung wide open, and Dominic Salvatore came walking in. He strode in confidentiality for a couple of steps, but then froze suddenly when he spotted me behind the counter.

Dominic's face frowned and contorted into a look of confusion. "You. What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Hi, Mr Salvatore," I said, nervously. "I work here."

"What? But I thought..." he started to say.

"Did you want a coffee?" I asked.

Dominic appeared to be thrown off by my question. "Err, no. I, umm, where's Joe?" he asked.

"He's out back, in the kitchen," I said. "Did you want me to get him?"

"No, I'll go around back to speak to him," he said. "Just make sure we are not disturbed."

Dominic looked at me for a moment longer, then shook his head and walked around the counter. I watched him walk, his steely confidence having returned. Damn he looked hot. If anything, he looked even more attractive in the daylight. His dark hair contrasted beautifully with the way the sunlight caught his white cotton shirt.

When Dominic went into the kitchen, I quietly slipped back towards the door so I could carry on checking him out.

"Hey, Joe. I got bad news," said Dominic.

Oh right, yeah. The dead guy, that's what I should be focusing on. I needed to stop thinking about sex. Though that was really difficult around him.

"I wanted to tell you first," said Dominic. "They found Tony."

"Is he... okay?" Joe asked.

There was a long pause before Dominic spoke again. "No," he said. "The police found his body in an alleyway."

Joe gave a pained cry, before he collapsed to the floor and started sobbing. I backed away from the kitchen door. I didn't want to hear any more of what was happening.

So, the police had found Tony. That meant things were going to get serious.