I shuddered and shrank in my seat.
Maybe one day they would have their own wedding and a honeymoon in Paris. Someone else would give a toast about finding “the one,” and it wouldn’t include me. David was my mistake, and if they ended up together, I would be his. I would be the blemish. The wife’s friend. The cheater.
8
Tap, tap, tap.I stared at the red pen between my fingers that I couldn’t stop fidgeting with, then looked at the clock: 11:20 a.m.
Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.
I stilled my hand and looked blankly at the magazine layout in front of me. I couldn’t focus. I needed fresh air. In seconds, I’d jumped out of my seat, crossed the office, and grabbed my jacket.
“Early lunch?” Jenny asked as I whizzed by reception.
“Yep.”
I focused on theclickof my heels against the pavement as I walked. Summer was ending, but it was warm, the sky a clear blue. With each step toward my destination, my mood lightened.
Since the car ride home from Winnetka the day before, my mind had been in overdrive. And somehow, I’d actually begun to feel better instead of just faking it. I wanted more of that. I needed . . .something. I didn’t know what exactly, or even what I wanted, but I thought I knew where to find it.
A fifteen-minute walk. A lifetime hanging in the balance. A choice. I stopped in front of the sleek, modern doors of an architecture firm I’d looked up many times but had never visited.
Pierson/Greer.
Just inside was the man who haunted my thoughts, the one I couldn’t forget. I reached out for the gilded handle and paused.
Don’t do this, Olivia. Let it lie. Let it be. Don’t do this . . .
After a moment, my hand fell to my side again. I backed away from the entrance and pinched the bridge of my nose.
What did I want from David? What answers could he provide?
I turned to pace the sidewalk. I needed to know why this was happening. Why, long after our night together, I still questioned the life I’d worked so hard to achieve. One I’d chosen not just once, when I’d married Bill, but again, when I’d raced out of David’s apartment three months earlier.
I stopped my tread finally and sighed up at the tall building. It didn’t matter how desperately I wanted to talk to David, even if it was the only thing that seemed to help lately. To lay eyes on him and know everything would be okay. To feel his touch when I was cold, even with the summer sun overhead. Seeking him out was wrong. With sagging shoulders, I turned around and idled back the way I’d come.
At the first convenience store, I ducked inside, craving comfort food for the first time in months. The first thing I saw was the freezer. Promising myself that things would get easier, I slid open the door and picked an ice cream sandwich. I just had to stay strong. I walked to the cashier, determined not to break down in the middle of a convenience store. Holding the dessert in one hand, I used my other to fish out a couple dollar bills from my wallet.
“Hey,” I heard. “Go easy on that ice cream, honeybee.”
My heart leaped, and I turned to see David filling the doorway in a charcoal, pinstripe, three-piece suit.
He tilted his head and smiled at me. “What are you doing here?” he asked. “Shouldn’t you be over on Adams, making some bachelors miserable?”
I just stared, blinking as sunlight illuminated him from behind. Was he real?
His eyebrows folded. “Are you all right? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“No,” I replied as his cologne slowly wafted into my orbit. “I mean yes, I’m all right. You startled me.”
“Well, I do work right down the street.”
“I know . . .”
“I know you know.” He grinned and nodded at my ice cream. “Is that your lunch?”
“Um. No, I—I . . .” I stammered and fumbled to set the sandwich on the counter. I shouldn’t be there. To run into David was one thing, but I’d come here looking for him.
“I should go.” Grasping the strap of my purse, I hurried to the doorway, where he swiveled to let me through.
