She heads to bed. I try to calm down. Then I notice my jeans are damp where she pressed herself against me. My mind races. I decide to reread all the texts again as our evening’s conversation glazes my thinking. It takes a few minutes then head to bed hoping she is waiting for me.
She is asleep. I try to sleep and I eventually do still deeply convinced and yet exhausted and intoxicated with conflict, wonder and doubt over the texts and the four hours I slept on the patio.
