AFTER ANOTHER FITFUL night, we woke with the sun to repeat our nighttime ritual in reverse. The same averted gazes and general state of awkwardness lasted until we were dressed, and I had time to wonder how she’d slept and what she’d dreamed of.
My dreams had been full of the smell of frangipani. It'd taken me a while to realize it was her perfume I’d been dreaming of, but once I’d placed the scent, I knew I’d never forget it, regardless of how long I lived and whether she remained part of my life or not.
Once we were ready, we went downstairs for the breakfast included in the price of the room. It was delicious, if somewhat unusual from my Canadian perspective. Fish, grilled tomatoes, porridge, and toast with lard and a homemade blackberry jam to round out the meal. Considering the toas
