I was back in his apartment. After the club with the dancer. After everything. I lay in his bed with his arm around me feeling a stillness and a calm settle in me.
I slept better here than anywhere else.
I had noticed it the second time I’d slept here. Something about his arms and the steadiness of his breathing with the city just below the windows.
I had gotten used to his bed. The size of it, the coolness of the sheets, the way the city light came through the curtains just enough.
All of it together made it easy to disappear into. The grief and the questions. All of it stepped back when I was here.
I lay in the dark and thought about his class in the morning. I thought about sitting in that front row in seven hours knowing what I knew now and felt something that was half anticip
