I stand under the shower and let the hot water pound away the tension bunching my muscles. I hadn’t bothered with the cold water at all and my skin is red, my face sweaty from the heat. I ignore it, the same way I ignore the roar of the shower, and the fact that she’s in our room, talking to him, about…something.
About me.
What can she possibly be saying?
I almost don’t want to know.
A short while later, the bathroom door opens and a whiff of cool air swirls around my legs. Suddenly I’m aware of the scalding water, so I turn the faucet back toward the middle and the water rushing over me turns lukewarm. Tepid, bearable now. The bathroom door closes; someone’s in here with me.
I press my lips together. I know it’s him. It has to be.
On the other side of the shower curtain, I hear clot
