“You’re a neurosurgeon on the eighth floor?”
Maggie nods once. “And you… you also work here?”
“I’m on the second floor.”
Her hand flies to her mouth. “Pediatric oncology. Oh, my god. Are you serious?”
“I just started my fourteenth year.”
“I can’t… this is…” Her head shakes and her lip quivers. “Sorry. I knew I would see you in a couple of days, but it’s entirely different to run into you in a place where we both—holy shit. We work in the same building. I’m kind of freaking out.”
“Is it a good-freak out, or a bad-freak out?” I ask.
“A good-freak out,” Maggie says. “I meant what I said the other night. I’ve missed you an unthinkable amount. More than anyone should after just a few hours with someone, but it’s the truth.”
We talked for hours last night, but I didn’t have the chance to tell her how much I wanted to be with her. I didn’t admit to her she’s all I’ve thought about, every waking hour spent wondering if she was okay, if she was happy.
God damn Shawn and his sign from the universe.
How else do you explain the woman I’m crazy about running into me in the cafeteria at the place where we both work? Divine intervention? Fate? Sheer dumb luck?
Whatever it is, I’m grabbing hold. I’m done fucking waiting because she’s looking at me, waiting to hear what I have to say, and there isn’t enough time left in my lifetime to tell her everything.
“God, Maggie,” I finally get out. My shirt is tight on my skin. My face is warm. I want to pull her into a hug and never let go. “You look incredible. I’ve missed you, sweetheart. So fucking much. More than a stupid text message or FaceTime call could ever convey.”
“You really did?” Her whispered question is hesitant, a ghost of a confession and a painful wait to hear what else I might have to say.
“Every single day was miserable. I didn’t know if I was even allowed to miss you, or to feel some emotion beyond temporary attraction. Then I realized how empty my apartment is without you in it. How dull my life is without your laughter. It might have been only one night, but I would have missed you for eternity.”
Tears leak from her eyes, and she bats them away with the back of her hand. She closes the distance between us, arms wrapping around my neck and pulling me close. I kiss her chin, her cheek, her forehead. I kiss any inch of her skin I can find, a million of them to make up for the time we’ve spent apart.
“I was a fool to let you go,” I whisper into the crook of her neck. My palms smooth down her back, coming to rest on her waist. I don’t think I’ll get over howrightshe fits in my arms. Like a piece of myself—my soul—was missing until she pressed herself against me. And now I’m whole.
“We were six floors apart this entire time. We might not have found each other if not for the photo shoot.” Maggie buries her face into the collar of my shirt, tears staining my tie. I hold her tighter, experiencing the same rush of sadness and regret, a near suffocating feeling. “I hate that, Aiden.”
“No,” I say fiercely. “I would have always found you, sweetheart, even if it took me years of searching every goddamn hospital. I would have torn the world apart to learn your name and find your smile. And when I did, I would have known right away you were the one, just like I did the second I walked into that warehouse. My life was boring until I met you. Now all I see are colors, and light, and your beautiful, perfect face. I want you, Maggie Houston, however you’ll have me, for the rest of my life.”
The sound of clattering trays, the smell of pizza and French fries, the sight of a hundred people watching us embrace in the middle of a crowded room fade away, until it’s only her and I. Time stops, exactly how it did when we shook hands for the first time, when I kissed her for the first time, when I buried myself in her for the first time. I’m waiting to hear if she feels the same way I do. Everything hinges on this next moment.
“I want you too, Aiden Wood,” she says. Her words ring in my ears. Balloons drop from the ceiling. Trumpets play and choirs sing. Confetti litters the floor. In my mind, every obnoxious display of celebration is exploding like fireworks sparkling in the night sky. “I want your cooking. Your tattoo. The love you have for your daughter. In every capacity, every minute of every day.”
“Well, it sounds like I have a very important question to ask, then.”
“What’s that?”
“Maggie Houston,” I say in the shell of her ear. She giggles, and the sound buoys me, the ebb and flow of life starting anew. “Fuck dinner. I’m not going another minute without you in my life. I don’t care if it’s cheesy or stupid or some happily ever after from your romance novels. Will you do me the greatest honor and get a cup of shitty cafeteria coffee with me?”
“Yeah,” she says, a constellation of stars dazzling in her eyes and my heart in her hands, a future yet to come. “I’d love to.”
