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I sit behind my big desk, my hands trembling. Grabbing the letter opener with a shaking hand seems ill-advised, so I do what I haven’t done the entire time I’ve worked here. I just sit. I try to take deep breaths, but I’m freaking out a little.
Maybe I shouldn’t have left the way I did. Maybe I should have called, texted, or checked in. It wasn’t a pride thing. I just wanted Leon to figure things out on his own. If he didn’t want to do something, I wasn’t going to be able to change his mind. He’d seemed so close at the cabin, but then he reverted straight back to fear, pushing me away as soon as we were in the city. I didn’t want to push him into the tests again, and I also didn’t want to have to beg him to be with me. That’s not how a relationship should work. And yes, I did know what I was getting myself into, at least at the cabin, when I fought so hard for him. I don’t need him to be perfect. I just need him to want this. Us.
Coffee. Get some coffee.
Right. Because that’s the solution. Become more jittery than I already am. It’s something to do with my hands, though, so I shove back from the desk and walk over to the coffee machine in the waiting area. It’s for customers only, but there isn’t anyone around. I put a pod in and press the button, waiting for it to brew. In the meantime, I clean around the whole area, tidying up the few specs of dust that may have landed since I last hovered this morning.
When it’s finished, I take the coffee back to my desk and force myself to focus on the afternoon’s appointments, bringing up schedules, emails, and notes on my screen. I have things to print off, documents to get ready, and stuff that needs to be mailed out. Oh, and the mail. I have to get that delivered too. I don’t have time to space out or stop doing my job because I’m so lost in my worry for Leon.
Please let those tests have been good. Please, please, please.
One of the lawyers here has an appointment coming up in half an hour, but it’s nothing I have to get ready for. A few minutes later, I hear the front door open. It’s around the corner and down the stairs since this building is huge and ancient. I figure it’s Mr. Roberts here early for his meeting. After shoving my cup of coffee under the lip of the desk so that it’s out of sight, I put on my best—please have a seat. We’ll be right with you. And I’m not currently a huge freaking mess on the inside—smile.
But it’s not Mr. Roberts.
I’d know his scent anywhere.
Sandalwood. Fresh rain. Earth.
I’m on my feet before I even realize I’ve shoved the chair back so hard that it hit the copier with a thud. The copier makes a noise and spits out a piece of paper on the side tray that god knows how long was jammed in there.
He’s perfect, wearing one of his usual suits. All black, even the tie. I haven’t seen him in a month, and my body responds by nearly bowing in half. Heat swirls through me, heat and worry and all the feelings, every bit of everything I experienced back at the cabin.
His eyes are still the color of storm clouds, but they’re clear. He’s freshly shaven, and his hair is styled back in the usual way. He’s had a haircut, but this time, I didn’t book it for him. His clothes look fresh and clean, too, and I didn’t do that either. He probably drove here in his car that I didn’t clean and went to meetings I didn’t book. He’s living a whole life that has nothing to do with me. It hurts. I shouldn’t be jealous, and it shouldn’t suck after a stretch of time where I tried to work things out in my head, but it does. It still sucks, and the pain still has a bite to it.
He’s not smiling.
I grip the desk ledge and glance around. No one is here to witness this. Or to hear me. I don’t ask him if he’s okay. I’ve asked that way too much, and it’s a yes or no question. So are the rest of the questions I can think to ask, but it can’t be helped.
“Did you get your results?”
He doesn’t look at me funny. He knows the clinic tried calling me first. He doesn’t look mad, though. About that. Or upset. “I did.”
It can’t be bad. He’s not a wreck. Please, don’t let it be bad. Don’t let this be the craziest poker face that ever existed. Please, just let him be fine.
“Is…is everything…what did they say? The tests?”
“Do you have somewhere where we can talk? Can I take you for lunch?”
“I, uh, I actually don’t take a lunch break. I’m usually too busy. I get paid if I work through it. There are clients coming in shortly, and I have lots of work to get done. I…there won’t be anyone coming in or out of here for a while. We’re good here if you’re good. Or I could meet you somewhere after work. I know that’s a long time to wait, but—”
“After work is fine. Will you come over?”
“To your house?” I squeak.
“Yes, that’s right. If that works?”
“Uh, okay. Sure. Yes. I get off at five. See you around six with the commute time?”
That makes his lips edge up, and I let out a breath. There can’t be anything wrong. He wouldn’t be here, smiling at me, if there was something wrong. “You’re still the same, Darby,” he says softly like he expected me to be different for some reason. He doesn’t say it like it’s a bad thing, though. “See you at six.”
He walks out, and honestly, I just stand there glued to the spot, blinking in the direction of the empty space he just occupied. I can still smell him. The hairs on my arms stand on end. It’s like he might have been a ghost—a dream. Oh god, did I fall asleep at my desk, and this whole thing was a crazy dream?
I sit down hard, or at least I go to sit down, not realizing my chair is still up against the copier. I let out a shrill scream as I find only air. I was going for a hard sit down, too, so I got my way, except the hard part is the floor, and the sit down is my rump.
“Ouch.” I pop up quickly, which, in a freaking skirt suit and heels, isn’t easy to do. I rub my bottom and curse at the chair, tugging it closer before I sit down properly. Nope. Not a dream. This pain is real, and the pain in my heart is real too. It’s not the nasty kind of despairing pain but the pain of joy and care and hope.
The day doesn’t drag just because my brain is doing weird brain things while my heart is doing weird heart things all day. I’m basically run off my toes, which is good because then I don’t have time to think or dwell. The only time my brain gets worked up with overthinking is on the drive over to Leon’s house because it’s nowhere near my workplace, and traffic is thick.
