I Don't Have to Sleep to Dream

October 7, 2019, Vienna, Austria

Robert Camilletti drew the razor over his jawbone and down his neck. "Have you asked her if she's mad?"

"Yes, and she swears she isn't. She knew when they set the date that I wouldn't be able to be there, and I told her and Duane and Lisa not to plan the wedding around me. That's just silly and unfair and you know what my schedule's like and what if they had and then something had come up, then I'd really be in trouble."

"If she's going to say she's not mad, then she needs to not act weird." He rinsed the razor and tapped it on the side of the sink before continuing sliding it through the shaving cream, easing a couple days' worth of stubble away from his skin.

"I just think she feels let down by me and there's not a damn thing I can do about it. I'm sorry, and she knows how it is, and she also knows how much it fucks me up when I feel guilty about my job getting in the way of family stuff and so if she doesn't have a bone to pick with me I'd appreciate her not letting me think something's wrong under the surface."

"It's going to be good for you two when I leave."

"It's not going to be good for me." The shower turned off and a hand reached out, feeling around for a towel, which it slipped through the cracked door.

"I think she's missing you, and you're reading it wrong."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Her oldest child just got married and she's feeling nostalgic and reflective and you're an enormous part of her life, babe. You weren't able to be there, and you're insanely busy right now and with me around, you're not as available to her in other ways. I need to go home, she needs to come stay with you, which is what she's used to, and you need to spend some time with her. I bet whatever you're feeling goes away as soon as she feels seen and heard by you."

"I'm not ignoring her."

"Of course, you aren't. But you're not doing your usual thing with her, either, and if she's left wondering why she bothered to be here on another continent with you, well—"

"Yeah. Okay." The shower door opened, and Cher stepped out, towel around her, wringing out her long hair before flipping it over and wrapping it in a second towel. "I see what you're saying." She padded across the luxurious bathroom to where he stood at the sink and pressed her lips between his shoulder blades. "But I don't want you to leave."

"You know I'm going to."

Her arms wrapped around his bare waist from behind. "What if I don't let you?"

He smiled. "You're not the one with the keys to the plane, baby."

She chuckled softly, making a gentle line of kisses across his back. "You mean we can't stay like this forever?"

"I didn't say that."

"That's nice."

Rob finished shaving and rinsed his face before patting it with aftershave, smiling inwardly when he heard Cher inhale and sigh, liking the way it smelled. She went around to the hook behind the door and returned in a bathrobe, the towel that had been around her dangling from her hand, and she reached up with her other hand and pulled the second towel off her head. He watched as her waist-length black hair tumbled out of the towel, unfurling down her back.

"What?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. Dumb."

"No, what?"

"I like watching you do that with your hair."

She tilted her head to the side. "Taking it out of a towel?"