Heather Dubé come. The night receptionist gave us two keys. I locked the door and undressed with the light off. I was bloated from the beer. The bed was cold and it smelled musty. I laid on my back and Sofia nestled her face into the crook of my neck. I missed you, I missed you. I should have stayed there in the glow of your laptop, on the mattress on the floor with the city noise outside. Hard to believe just yesterday I was in the bathroom, my face smothered in rose clay and Canadian willowherb. You floated in the bath, surrounded by the white ceramic, the lukewarm water. Oh Shannen, you would be so mad. You squeeze my hand so tight when others are around. You would be so mad if you knew I let her use her mouth. Anyway, I didn’t like it. She fell asleep with her clothes on and her hand cupped in my underwear. I lay still with my arm around her shoulders. I knew I wouldn’t fall asleep like that. I’ve been having the dreams about marrying you again.
54