36

I took a shower, a cold one.

A very cold one.

Did it help?

No.

Nothing would at this point. I was thinking of Vittore in ways I hadn't thought of anyone.

Ever.

I tried to distract myself when I reached the closet. Turns out, this room was now mine. I was living in the same space as the man who had me questioning my sanity and I didn't mind it at all. The problem was, most of the clothes here didn't fit me. The elegant and classy looking dresses did which was funny but nothing else.

The bras were too small, not my fault. The shirts were too tight, the pants, too small so I had resorted to just wearing sweats, the way I liked it. I threw my now shoulder length hair in a semi decent bun, my bags falling in my face. I liked them. Faye really had a talent when it came to cutting hair.