The next morning, I wake up calmer.
The fever has broken. Whatever madness gripped me last night has receded, leaving behind something almost like clarity. I shower, shave, and dress in linen trousers and a simple shirt. I make coffee, then stand at the kitchen window and watch the sun climb over the vineyard as I drink it.
I can do this. I can keep my hands off her. One more day, maybe two, and we’ll fly back to New York. She returns to her desk; I return to mine.
Simple as could f*****g be.
I’m pouring my second cup when I hear her footsteps on the stairs. I turn…
… and all thoughts of “simple” go out the window.
Rae is wearing a simple cotton sundress with thin straps and a hem that brushes her knees. The fabric is white, soft, and worn, faded from years of washing, with little bl
