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26 – YESENIA
6WEEKS LATER
I know what I’m doing is wrong, but I can’t stay away. I finally texted Kincaid after he’d gone silent for a while. I asked if we could meet up to talk. It took almost twenty-four hours before he responded, but he did.
“Finally taking a lunch?” Carlos asks as I hurry out of my office.
“Huh?”
“You haven’t had lunch all day, Yaya. You’ve been buried in that office. I assume you’re heading home since you’ve got your briefcase.”
“Um...I have...a meeting. Oh, uh...all of my appointments are finished for the day, right?” I ask, turning to look at Guadalupe.
I’ve been in a space warp for the last couple of hours, waiting for time to wind down.
“No,” she says, consulting the calendar and shaking her head. “Your last appointment was it.”
“I’m surprised to see you leave so early. You hardly ever leave before seven,” Carlos says, glancing at his watch. “It’s only six o’clock.”
“Yeah, I uh...got some things to take care of.”
“Okay. Mind if I come in late tomorrow? It’s Lupe’s birthday Saturday, and I need to finalize a few things before the party.”
“Sure! Oh, don’t forget to give her my gift,” I call over my shoulder as I hurry towards the door.
“Will do!” Carlos calls back. He says something else I don’t hear as I rush through the doors and onto the sidewalk.
The evening sun shines on my face, which signifies the hope blooming in my heart. The cab is waiting, parked at the curb, and I hurriedly jump in. I chose not to take an Uber because that account is linked to my email, and I know Nicky can access it.
“Where to, Miss?”
“The Wentworth, please,” I say, referencing a posh hotel near my workplace.
I don’t relax until after the driver pulls out into traffic and goes down the street.
I glance at my phone again and look at the instructions that Cade left. I can't be mad if he never speaks to me again, but I need a chance to explain what happened.
I can’t get past the hurt in his eyes when we last saw one another. It seems as if time stands still, and so does the traffic. My stomach is in knots, and my head is pounding despite the hope and happiness I feel.
My mind goes over every detail of the text message as I stare at my phone again. I can’t tell if the tone is cold or nonchalant. He just instructed me where to come and never mentioned if he was mad, upset, disappointed, or forgiving.
It’s all disconcerting, really.
When I exit the taxi and pay, I look around, worrying whether someone might see me. Meeting here was an alternative to meeting in a restaurant, being seen by someone Nicky may know, and being questioned.
Yet, it feels so... duplicitous.
