Lily was right. It must have been very nearly exactly ten minutes from her walking out the door of my cabin to the dinner-bell chiming softly throughout the whole ship. And now here I am, halfway down a long table with a crisp, clean napkin on my lap, and a crisp, clean plate in front of me. Here and now is my *body*, at least, alongside all the other passengers– but my mind?– my mind is back in my cabin, back in ten minutes ago, fifteen minutes ago– back inside Lily.
I spent most of the last ten minutes washing my hands, my fingers, over and over, scrubbing deep and rough, trying to get rid of her smell, and why?– I love her smell, I want to keep smelling her smell, and I washed well, I think, I can’t smell it anymore, or only barely, but I’m absolutely sure that everyone else at this table can smell it. All of them know, I’m absolutely sure. Jeffery is sitting across from me, our Head of Acquisitions, and we’re chatting half-mindedly about the latest novel from Georgia Yannis, coming out in June, and how much of the Romance market it’s going to grab.