Chapter 19: Rain

It rained the night before the gala, hard enough to turn the Charlestown docks to black glass.

Cosimo took me to the warehouse where his family had kept its trucks for forty years.

He had turned the loft above it into a room with a bed, a lamp and a long window facing the water.

"I wanted you to see where I lived," he said. "While you were gone."

"You lived here?"

"For five years. I never moved into the tower until last year."

The bed was made with plain grey sheets.

On the wall above it was one picture, a harbor map, with a tiny pencil circle around the Wharf stairs.

I turned and looked at him.

He did not look away.

"Day sixty-one," I said.

"I know what day it is."

"Ninety days, no touching, no questions."

"We threw that out a long time ago."

"Say it anyway."

"There are no terms," Cosimo said. "I'm done pretending there are."

I crossed the room, took his wet coat off his shoulders and let it fall.

He stood still while I unbuttoned his shirt.

The rain drummed on the roof.

"Tomorrow I'm going to stand in front of three hundred people and take my life back," I said. "Tonight I want something that's only mine."

"What?"

"You. Slowly."

He took my face in his hands.

"Slowly," he said, "I can do."

He kissed me for a long time.

There was no hurry in it, and I felt the difference in my knees.

He undressed me one piece at a time and set each one on the chair.

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