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“Okay.”
Wincing, she stood and shuffled into the washroom.
Leaning back on the bed, I closed my eyes and replayed the night’s events over in my head. We had come close to losing everything. After the fight, I knew saying goodbye to Havana would be unbearable.
We only had tonight.
I glanced at the washroom door slightly ajar.
Moving to the door, I rapped on it with my knuckles. “Everything all right, love?”
“I guess.”
Havana sat in the tub, her knees pulled to her chest. She had cuts on her back from when she was on the ship that had healed and had been ripped open again. Her eyes were red and watery as she peeked over at me. Her hair covered most of her, and I went to the shelf on the wall. I grabbed my brush, and then soap and shampoo. Taking the chair that sat against the far wall, I moved to the back of the tub.
“Move backward,” I said, and she slid until her back rested against the rim. I took her hair and, using my hands to create little bowls of water, I wet the long brown strands, then took the little bottle of shampoo and poured it on the top of her head.
As I ran my fingers through her hair, scrubbing and cleaning all the dirt and blood out, she sat quietly, sniffling.
“Does anything hurt?” I asked, as I rinsed her hair.
“Everything does.”
Taking the soap, I carefully cleaned some scratches along her skin. She winced as I brought the soap over her shoulder where she had a long red slice.
“I’m so tired,” she said. “I feel numb and exhausted.”
“After the bath, you can eat and then go to sleep.”
“I don’t want to sleep.” Her voice cracked with emotion, and I knew why. I understood why she didn’t want to go to bed, the same reason I didn’t.
But we both needed rest. “I know, love.”
When I had finished cleaning her back and her arms, I gave her the soap so she could clean the rest of herself.
There was a knock at the door.
“That’s probably our food, and Lily was bringing some clothes for you. I’ll be right back.”
By the time I reached the door, the servant had already come and gone, leaving a tray of steaming tea, soup, rolls, and a folded bundle of white clothes. I took the bundle and brought it back into the washroom. Havana was sitting straighter, taking the soap across her legs. Her long hair covered her, but little specks of skin peeked through the long strands. I kept my gaze on her face, not wanting to be rude because this wasn’t the time for flirtatious comments.
I placed the clothes on the chair. “When you’re ready. There’s soup and tea out here for you.”
“Thank you,” she said, her eyes tearing.
I closed the bathroom door, my heart constricting with confusion. It was painful. Not just the fact she would be gone tomorrow, but that we didn’t even have tonight. Not one night to be together, to relish in each other’s arms. The fight had drained us both and I was not about to do other things with her.
Sitting at the table, I took a piece of the roll, broke it and dumped it into the soup and poured myself a mug of tea. I tasted a hint of valerian root, something to ease both of us.
The door to the bathroom opened, and I glanced back as Havana walked out. She wore a white silk robe and underneath, another white silky nightgown. Her hair hung around her shoulders.
“Feel better?” I asked.
She nodded and then took the seat opposite me. I poured her tea. “Be careful. It’s a little hot.”
“Thank you,” she said and gingerly brought the mug to her lips. When she drank, the tension in her shoulders left. She leaned back against the chair and then quickly sat back up, as apparently a couple of scratches were a little too painful.
“What a night,” I said, taking another piece of the roll and shoving it in my mouth.
