She sits on a stool, left foot tucked under right thigh, in front of the mirror, applying lotion to her freshly washed face. No makeup now, radiant skin, au naturel. She wears an oversized white T-shirt, only. She picks up a wooden brush and with smooth even strokes passes it over her long brown hair, working out the tangles, follicle to ends, letting it drift softly about her shoulders and back. Her hair shines in the glow of the small table lamp, like a feathery halo surrounding her.

I am captivated. She glances up in the mirror to catch my eyes watching her from the bed, waiting. I pat the vacant space next to me. She smiles. Puts down the brush.....then joins me.