I sat on the patio, a steaming cup of coffee cradled between my palms. The aroma curled into the air. Butterflies danced lazily over the flowers, their wings a blur of orange and white, but even that delicate beauty did nothing to soothe the ache inside me.
I had to drink more coffee these days just to stay alert, just to keep from losing myself in exhaustion. And the cold showers—God, I had taken so many cold showers lately I was convinced the water pipes hated me. It was almost laughable: me, a man who built corporations from dust, undone by the presence of one woman.
