I sometimes dream of endless apartments where every door leads to a corridor and a new set of rooms. It's not a nightmare, I'm alone but never afraid and it's quiet. There is no outside world, no windows, just the crooked walls and dim, dusty light bulbs hanging from the ceiling.
This morning I woke up in Henry's bed, it's getting colder and I still sleep in my underwear because he wants me to. We talked over breakfast and he mentioned S. "It was always you I wanted" he said and I should take it as a compliment but didn't. We kissed on the corner of Bond Street and Broadway, in my mind I was already on my way to the airport and her endless house in LA.
And all I can think of when I want to call her is: what if she'll never forgive me?