Page 265 of Lorenzo

I let my eyes close again as sleep begins creeping over me in slow waves.

I can feel it happening, that strange point where my thoughts stop connecting properly and everything around me begins drifting farther away. The low hum of the engine blends with the rain. Lorenzo’s body is warm against mine. Mocha shifts near my feet and then settles again.

I am almost asleep when Lorenzo moves his phone slightly.

The light of the screen catches my attention again.

Calendar.

Tomorrow.

The date sits at the top.

I stare at it without lifting my head.

I know the date.

Obviously I know the date.

But something about seeing it written there, surrounded by the rest of the month, tugs at me.

My brows draw together.

What is bothering me?

I blink slowly and try to focus.

The little grid of dates swims slightly because I am too tired to make my eyes cooperate.

I count backward.

Or maybe forward.

No, backward.

I mentally retrace the last few weeks, but the thoughts keep slipping away from me before I can hold onto them.

The day I set up my office, the day I met Lorenzo. The hotel, Alessio, Rachel. Lorenzo at my house.

The days blur together and become weeks.

I look at the calendar again.

There is something wrong.

Something off.

Something I should have noticed before now.

I lift my head slightly from Lorenzo’s shoulder.

He glances down. “What?”

I barely hear him.

I count again.

One week.