Here he said draping a button-down shirt over my shoulders: this is your bathrobe.
Holding it closed with one hand I walked out of his bedroom into the dormstyle bathroom down the hall. In the mirror was my reflection, hair tousled face flushed. The shirt was blue and came down to my midthigh, the shoulders landing where teeshirt sleeves should end. I looked at myself engulfed and tiny and wondered who am I to venture into the world?
