Raking a hand through my hair, I thought to myself that I needed a haircut whilst reaching for my phone on the nightstand, checking the time. Nine in the morning. When did Amelia say the appointment was? I wondered as I slid off the bed and strode over to the closet to put a robe on. I had slept in my boxer-briefs like I always did, but I didn’t want to look indecent when checking on Amelia. Loosely knotting the complimentary plush robe, I strode out the door barefoot. The harsh, Spanish sun filtered through the massive expanse of glass, blinding me a moment. When I finally squinted my eyes open, I saw Amelia sitting on the couch, nibbling on fresh fruits and cream, face naked of artifice and in the same state as I was—dressed in a robe and a little exhausted. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?” Slowly moving towards her, I sat on the opposite side, studying her awhile, wondering if I could see traces of the woman from last night.
