Nice - Day 5

When the morning awakes me I'm alone on his air-conditioned side of the bed, the Love Moschino T-shirt I fell asleep in lies perfectly folded next to me. Without him the room is a deserted city, outside is the sound of a rain waiting to begin. I step into yesterday's dress and wander aimlessly around the hotel like a ghost from the belle epoque (no, that's a good thing).

What he said and how he said it, a reflexion of the last hour we spent together in New York: him holding the door and leaning into me as I passed, his voice a birdlike whisper in my ear and the traffic: I love you so much. I tried to answer him but the words escaped me, nothing would ever have been enough.

He comes back after 10, the lobby is full of people and the concierge has brought me coffee (I added the bourbon myself). He smiles when he sees me barefoot in my charcoal dress and chaotic morning hair, I keep from asking where he was because when he holds me it truly feels as if it doesn't matter.