The Memory of Angelina

Underneath all of that, lay anger. Someone had looked into my heart and found a long forgotten moment of love. But I didn't have Angelina anymore. And that turned the memory from sweetness into one of pain. So I had to know how they'd done it. That was why when the server returned to inquire whether we needed anything, I smiled up at him and asked, Where's your restroom? The bathroom was as quaint as the rest of the place. Woodpaneled, containing a side-by-side toilet and bidet, and an enormous porcelain sink in the style of Louis XIV's Versailles. Though,  I was tempted to try the