Vanessa
The next morning, the weight of exhaustion tugs at every limb, making the simple act of rising from the bed a slow, deliberate process. Sometime between crying and tossing and turning last night, I finally fell asleep. Maybe that's why I didn't wake when Diego got up; he's nowhere to be found now. I assume he's in the kitchen or something.
My eyes feel sore and puffy as I drag myself to the large, ridiculously unnecessary walk-in shower. In a daze, I scrub my body with the strawberry-scented body wash, I assume was bought just for me, until my skin feels raw. I stand underneath the scalding water until the knots of tension in my muscles begin to dissolve, letting the warmth wash away the remnants of the restless night. Afterwards, I throw on the tank top and shorts I set aside in
