The silence inside the apartment seemed louder than it had earlier. The refrigerator hummed softly in the kitchen. A cardoor slammed somewhere outside. From another apartment, I could hear faint music playing through a wall.
For the first time all day, loneliness crept back in. Not the sharp kind. Not the kind that hurt.
Just the familiar awareness of being by myself.
The feeling had been easier to ignore while I was cleaning things that didn't need cleaning. It was harder to ignore now that there was nothing left to do except wait.
I thought about everything and nothing.
A knock sounded at the door. Every thought vanished instantly. The sound wasn't loud. Just three ordinary knocks from the other side of the apartment. My pulse jumped anyway. For a second, I stood completely still.
Then I crossed the room. The distance between the couch and the front door couldn't have been more than fifteen feet. It somehow felt much longer. I reached for the handle, took a breath, and pulled the door open.
Cold December air slipped into the apartment immediately.
Thane stood on the other side wearing a dark coat with the collar turned up against the weather. Dampness clung to his hair from the light rain outside, and one hand held a cardboard drink carrier while the other carried a paper bag from a restaurant I recognized from downtown.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
The drive here was real.
The call had been real.
The knock had been real.
Most importantly, he was real.
He had actually come.
Standing in front of my apartment holding takeout and coffee, like showing up was the most natural thing in the world.
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Hi."
Something warm and ridiculous unfolded inside my chest. "Hi."
His gaze moved briefly past me toward the apartment before returning to my face.
"I come bearing food."
I looked at the bag. Then at the coffee. Then back at him. "You realize this is how people get invited inside."
His smile widened. "I was hoping you'd say that."
I stepped back to let him inside.
Another rush of cold air followed him into the apartment before I pushed the door shut behind us. Up close, the scent of rain clung faintly to his coat, mixing with the smell of coffee and whatever was inside the takeout bag.
"You can put those on the table," I said.
Thane held up the drink carrier. "Good. My fingers were starting to lose circulation."
Despite myself, I laughed. The sound seemed to ease some of the nervous energy bouncing around the apartment. A minute ago, I'd been worrying about my furniture. Now I was standing in my living room trying not to stare at the fact that Thane Hale was actually here.
He shrugged out of his coat and paused. For a second, I thought he might drape it over the nearest chair. Instead, he looked at me. "Where do you want this?"
"Uh, here." I took the coat and hung it on the rack beside the door. By the time I turned back around, he'd already carried the food to the coffee table.
I watched him while pretending not to.
