Gideon handed him some cigarettes, and the bellboy left. The door clicked shut behind him.
Silence settled like a blanket.
Only the faint noises of children in the other room could be heard. Hilde giggling, Axel saying, "Try this one!" and Klaus crunching into an apple, floated faintly through the suite.
I stood frozen in the bathroom doorway, unable to move. Gideon stepped behind me so quietly I didn't notice until his warm hand slid gently into mine.
"What do you think?" he asked softly.
My throat tightened. "I—I don't remember… anything like this. Not since before the war. Before… everything."
He squeezed my fingers. "I wanted you to feel safe,"he murmured. "All of you."
My eyes blurred. "I don't even know how to… be in a place like this anymore," I whispered.
"You don't have to know," he said, turning me gently to face him. "You only have to rest."
His thumb brushed across the back of my hand, slow and reassuring. "And tonight," he added, voice low, "you finally can."
A tear slipped down my cheek before I could catch it. I wasn't crying over the bathtub. Or the beds. Or the carpets. Or the stupid fruits. I was crying because for the first time in years, I wasn't surviving.
I was being cared for.
I stepped forward, and my fingers brushed the tub, "My God," I whispered. "I haven't… not since before the war… not even a warm wash…"
The kids must have finished the fruits, because Hilde wandered in behind me and gasped so loudly she scared herself.
"You all go first," I said, choking on emotion.
Gideon placed a gentle hand on my back.
Klaus' eyes were huge. "But… the water?"
I knelt and kissed his forehead. "There's enough hot water for all of us. Running water. Hot water. All night."
Klaus blinked rapidly, overwhelmed. Axel hovered by the door, uncertain.
"Hilde first," I said, "she's the smallest."
Gideon helped them one by one, running warm water, adding soap bubbles, wrapping Hilde in a giant towel afterward like she was royalty, ever careful of her broken arm that was set in a cast. Axel's giggle echoed off the tiles; Klaus splashed so hard I thought we'd flood the place.
And the whole time, Gideon moved with a quiet tenderness that made my chest ache. Finally, the children were warm and clean and wrapped in blankets on the large bed in the other room, dozing under the soft glow of a table lamp.
It was my turn.
Gideon stood by the bathroom door, looking suddenly shy. "There's a lock; take all the time you need."
He stepped away to give me privacy. The moment the bathroom door clicked shut behind me, the world hushed. For a long time, I simply stood there in the steam, staring at the porcelain tub as if it might vanish if I blinked. Then I turned the brass faucet, watching in awe as steaming water poured out, steady, abundant, effortless.
Hot water.
My breath trembled.
I sank into the tub slowly, almost reverently, the heat wrapped around me like a blanket I hadn't been allowed to touch for years. It stung at first; my skin wasn't used towarmth, but then a soft moan escaped me as the ache in my bones loosened.
Warm. So warm.
The soap smelled faintly floral, rich and creamy. I lathered it over my arms and watched gray water swirl away from my skin, the kind of filth you didn't even notice anymore until it was gone.
