I take a good look at Lance. He’s handsome, for sure. He reminds me of Stephen, my date at Angie and Jason’s wedding, though he’s more rugged than pretty boy. But he has the same coloring. Tanned skin, dark eyes. Any other time I’d probably say yes, but I’m stuck on another man.
Though that man let me go.
So what the hell?
“I’m starting an intense surgical seminar tomorrow that’s going to take up most of my time,” I say, “but maybe next weekend?”
He smiles. “The weekend would be great. I’m a software engineer, and I’m working on a pretty intense project myself this week. How about Saturday around ten? At the Starbucks by the med school campus?”
I nod weakly. “Sure.”
“Can I get your number?”
I inhale. “It’s been a pretty scary night for me, Lance. Just meet me on Saturday. I won’t stand you up. I promise.”
He nods. “Good enough. I understand. I’ll walk you up.”
“That’s not necessary.”
He frowns. “You sure?”
“Yeah. The building is safe, and as you can see, it’s well lit.”
“Okay, but I’m letting you go under duress.”
I force a weak smile and walk to the door of the building. To his credit, Lance doesn’t drive away until I’m safely inside.
By the time I unlock my apartment door and step inside, my knees are weak, my stomach a riot of nerves. The apartment is dark and silent, matching my mood perfectly. I walk into the bedroom, my thoughts a jumbled mess.
The magnitude of tonight’s events hits me again. The fear, the relief, the sadness all comes rushing back and threatens to pull me under.
I sink onto my bed, the tears finally trickling down my cheeks. I cry silently at first but then let go. Sobs shake my body as I let myself feel the terror and grief that I’ve been trying to hold at bay.
After a while, the tears cease, leaving behind a hollow emptiness. I lie there, staring at the ceiling.
Even after tonight’s events, he’s still there.
Henry.
In my mind.
But not with me.
His absence stretches out before me like a gaping chasm, one I don’t know how to cross.
I close my eyes, willing sleep to take over. But I still see Henry. His blue eyes, the way his blond hair would fall over his forehead, the strength of his arms as he held me close.
It’s all bittersweet.
A lost love.
Love.
The word seems too big, too profound for what we had. It was just a weekend, a fling in the grand scheme of things.
But it was real and intense and beautiful.
For me, at least.
