As he steps out of the elevator on the eighth floor, Hugo tries to compose his face in a way that doesn’t make him look as guilty as he feels. But his hands are sweaty, and his stomach is doing flips, and he thinks maybe he should tell her before he gives himself away.
When he walks in the door, she leans out of the bathroom and smiles at him. She’s in her pajamas, and her hair is wet, and the whole room feels steamy.
“Did you do it?” she asks, and he looks at her, startled, before realizing she’s talking about the letter.
“I started,” he says. “But I’ll finish tomorrow.”
She sets down her hairbrush and appears in the doorway again. “So that means you think it’s a good idea?”
“I do,” he says, and her face brightens. She walks over to him smelling like soap and something else, something clean and lemony, and he’s about to confess it all, feeling powerless in the face of so much citrus. But then she circles her arms around his waist and stands on her toes and kisses him, and just like that, he forgets about everything else.
The next morning, Hugois still acting weird.
Their train is delayed, so they’ve parked themselves on a couch at the station, which is clean and bright and filled with comfortable chairs and beautiful lamps and low wooden tables, making it feel more like a living room than anything else.
Mae’s got her computer out, taking notes as she flips through the various interviews they’ve recorded so far. Hugo is sitting beside her, knee jangling. Outside, they can see the trains coming and going, and people keep streaming into the station, their voices bouncing around the cavernous space.
“I’m gonna get a coffee,” she says. “Want one?”
Hugo shoots to his feet with a suddenness that startles her. “I’ll get it,” he says, then promptly trips over the table in front of them, his long legs tangled. He barely manages to right himself before crashing into her laptop.
“You okay?” she asks, but he goes hurrying off without looking at her. She watches, amused, as he disappears into one of the shops, then reappears a moment later and hurries back over. Before he can ask, she says, “A vanilla skim latte, please.”
He nods sheepishly and wheels around again.
But it only takes him a couple minutes to return.
“I don’t have any money,” he says, and Mae hands over her credit card.
“Buy yourself something nice,” she jokes, but he doesn’t even manage a smile.
She frowns at the back of his gray sweatshirt as he heads into the shop again, wondering what’s wrong. Nothing really happened last night—they watched a terrible TV movie and then fell asleep—but maybe that was it? Maybe he was hoping for more. After all, he had a girlfriend for almost four years, which is practically a lifetime. It’s entirely possible that he expected to do more than just cuddle when sharing a bed with a girl. He didn’tseemupset, though. Maybe a little distracted. But then, they both had things on their minds. Besides, he was the one to fall asleep first, snoring so loudly that Mae had to keep turning up the volume before eventually giving up and switching off the lights.
When he comes back, he’s holding two paper coffee cups, the wordsYou Gowritten across the side of one of them, which makes her laugh. He hands over hers, then sinks onto the couch, his eyes on the clock as he swigs from the cup.
“You okay,You Go?” she asks with a grin, but he only nods.
With a shrug, she reaches for her phone and finds a text from Priyanka, who has been checking in about Nana:Any updates?Just as she’s about to write back, another message pops up, and her heart lifts at the sight.
Nana: So you’re not the only one who had a big adventure.
Mae: Hi! How are you feeling??
Nana: I’m fine. Heading back home with your worrywart parents today. I tell you what, though…I’m going to miss these doctors. They won’t stop flirting with me.
Mae: Sounds about right.
Nana: How’s the train?
Mae: Just about to get back on.
Nana: And how’s the boy?
Mae: Very cute.
Nana: And how’s my favorite granddaughter?
Mae: She misses you. A lot.
