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She is leaving in less than a month. Apparently, she has been seeing Louis and things are going really well with them. I am surprised to hear it, Cara falls in love every single week, so the fact that this has lasted for a few is a new record.
We talk briefly and make plans, dinner with a lot of liquid courage and then dancing.
I get up and trudge my way to the tube to begin my journey home. I feel a pang of loneliness I can’t deny or ignore.
October 2, 2014
I haven’t seen Addie in days. I get into work early and leave early, too. I am fucking lucky my design is what won us the bid and is bringing all this money into the firm. It has bought me flexibility I need desperately right now.
Today however, is a rare day where I will work late. Kyle is on half term, meaning he is home and can relieve Mercy when she leaves at 5:30pm. It also means I have the chance to go out this weekend.
Louis is convinced I need a night of pretending we are twenty-two and maybe he’s not wrong. Addie’s disappearance has stressed me the fuck out. I can’t even ask anyone about it.
Matthew has been an even bigger douche than usual, and I’ve had to keep my distance from him to keep from saying or doing something I know I’ll regret. I still don’t know what happened between him and Addie, but he hasn’t said a word about her.
It’s almost 9pm when I start to cross the courtyard that leads to the tube. I see Addie stand up from one of the benches and walk toward the station. Walking is not exactly the right word, she is trudging. Her shoulders are slightly hunched.
It is a cool night and she is dressed warmly, but it is more than that, she looks like she just lost a fight. I know I should just hang back and let her get on her train, but I can’t. I have been so hungry for a glimpse of her and this is the second time I’ve seen her looking like she has just finished fighting a losing battle.
So I speed up my pace and call her name. She startles at the sound of her name and stops suddenly. I catch up to her just as she turns around with a look of bewilderment on her face.
“Simon, you scared me. What are you doing?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m going home and saw you and thought I’d try to catch up.”
In the harsh light of the tube station entrance, I can see how tired she looks. She has faint smudges under her eyes, and she looks like she’s lost some weight, but her beauty is not diminished in anyway. As usual, it strikes me slightly dumb. “Want to ride together?”
“Well, it’s the tube, it’s not like they have private cars, don’t see how we have much of a choice about that,” she quips. Without waiting for me she turns and steps onto the long, steep escalator down and I step on behind her. We ride down in a slightly uncomfortable silence.
We both swipe our fare card and go through the turnstiles. As we stand on the platform waiting, neither one of us has speaks.
I decide to try and break the ice. “So where have you been this past week. I haven’t seen you at all.”
Without even glancing up at me, all I get in response is, “I was at my office.” Okay. I won’t be deterred. Seeing someone as radiant and strong as Addie walking with her shoulders hunched feels so wrong. I am determined to cheer her up.
“How do you like being in Canary Wharf as opposed to The City?”
She turns her head to look at me at this question. She stares me at for a second like she is trying to decide whether to answer or to slap me.
Then she says in a voice that is animated, “I love it here. I hope this project lasts until the summer so I can watch the Red Bull Air Race. I hear the London Symphony plays a free concert in the courtyard, too.”
Turns out I picked the right topic. I don’t interrupt, but listen and watch with rapt attention as Addie’s eyes sparkle and her lips turn up as she talks about all of the things she loves about this revived part of London’s Docklands.
We change to the Northern Line train at London Bridge and continue our journey and she continues talking about London. Apparently, she is really loving her time here. She is so animated as she talks about her runs from Whitehall all the way to Brixton. Or when she runs from King’s Cross to Covent Garden and back again almost every single Sunday morning.
I watch her in awe those fifteen minutes, and I imagine my life differently. I imagine I had a family I could introduce her to. That I didn’t have a child I was raising I had to make a priority. I want to kiss her right then there.
I feel Addie’s hand on my sleeve. I realize she has stopped talking, and I was caught in my reverie. She is smiling at me. Her cheeks are slightly flushed and her eyes still have that sparkle.
“My stop’s next.” I look up and realize we’re at Angel. She continues, slightly less animated, “I am glad you caught up to me tonight. I needed the company. Thanks for letting me prattle on and on about London. It’s a subject I can apparently talk about nonstop.” She says with a self-deprecating smile.
“My pleasure.” I say. And I mean it. “I’m glad I caught up with you, too. Living here, sometimes I forget what a wonderful city it is. I might need to start exploring it again.”
I want to invite her to do it with me, but I stop myself. And then it’s her stop. She starts to stand up, but leans down to brushes a kiss on my cheek and whispers in my ear. “Thank you, Simon, for coming to my rescue.” As she pulls back, she looks me fully in my eyes. “Again.”
And then she pulls her coat tightly around her waist, hikes her bag up on her shoulder, and walks off the train, disappearing into the crowd.
When the door closes, I can still smell her. I ride the rest of the way home thinking I don’t know what the fuck I am going to do.
