It is a damp, dark, chilly winter evening. You are ill, exhausted, pale and shivering. You run the bath as hot as it will go and then lower yourself into it with visible relief. In the half-light wanly coming in the window, I watch your face. As the steam curls around your beard and water droplets collect on your chest a tiny bit of calm steals over your countenance. A few lines near your eyes soften. I hear you exhale. I wonder if you will cry. I sit on the edge of the tub and cross one leg over the other. I rest a hand on my leg and let the other trail in the water. I breathe the steam into my lungs and let my limbs loosen. I wonder how much longer you can take this routine. I wonder when it will end.

***

I am very glad that neither of us is wondering that any more.