"Don't talk about it like we've been having this on-going affair," he says. "It was that one time, both of us fucked up beyond standing. Nothing happened until he showed up here earlier in summer."

Proko wants to disappear. He wants to die, dissolve between the cracks in the floorboards. He didn't want to do this over the phone.

But Jiang's right, right? He should've said something before they got there, should've tried to laugh about it or something. But it's too late now.