Nero standing in my doorway.
Nero walking into the café.
Nero pulling my body against his at a concert.
Nero washing my body in my small, cramped shower.
Nero breaking into my apartment to make sure I don’t leave.
Nero telling me he loves me. Holding my hand in front of his men. Calling it our home.
I allow one more shuddering breath. One more moment of indulgence. Before I shake my head.
No more crying.
Using my feet, I scoot back until my face is out of the direct spray.
Crying is exhausting, and even though that was a quick little bout, I’m ready to crawl back into that big comfortable bed.
I need to collect myself and do the showering part of taking a shower.
I’m shifting my weight, getting into a kneeling position, when I see it. The recessed shelves built into the wall.
