Six months. In just three weeks, it would be six months since Julia's wedding, and Agrippa was wondering every day why he was counting the days with such devoted zeal. It wasn't as if time had softened her toward him any, and another six months would mean nothing as well. The last time he had gotten to see her at all was two weeks before when he saw her entering her private bathhouse again, but this time, she hadn't even stopped to receive his hello. She hadn't even bothered pretending to not have seen him either - she had simply walked away.
Six months. Six months since she became another man's, and six months since he had begun lusting after another Roman's wife. Augustus's nephew, no less. Agrippa could feel his resolve slipping every time he though he smelled her lingering scent in Au
