Isaac stares at me. With his back to the streetlamp, I can’t see into his eyes. I wish I could, but his eyes are so dark it probably doesn’t matter. I just want to look into them, to see if he’s doubting this like Iam.
He takes my hands and squeezes them. “I could use some comfort tonight, and I think you could too. Let’s make a deal. One hour. We’ll give one hour to each other. When one hour is up, you can tell me if you want me to come to your door sometime with something other than flowers. How does thatsound?”
“Have you forgotten you’re leaving the country on a longtrip?”
He shakes his head slowly. “I don’t have to extend my travel, and by the time I get back you’ll be over the guy who broke yourheart.”
I purse my lips and look at him. Knowing he’s leaving makes this decision as safe for my heart as possible. Our ending has already been decided. It’s one hour, for one night, and then it’sover.
My hand wraps around his neck, pulling him in. When my lips are at his ear, I whisper, “I hope your place isclose.”
The vibration of his groan grinds against my cheek. He surges forward, pulling me along behind him. Our pace is quick until he stops abruptly and looks back at me. This time the streetlight illuminates his face, and I can clearly see into his eyes. They lookhungry.
“I don’t know if one hour with you will be enough for me, Aubrey.” He turns back around and keepsgoing.
I follow his quick footsteps, fully in the knowledge that one hour is all I have to offerhim.
This isn’t aboutlove.
I have none togive.
This isn’t about myheart.
It’s not whole enough tobreak.
This is about one hour of forgetting, one hour of letting my body rule while my mind shuts off. I’m going to spend one hour with thisman.
And then I’m never going to see himagain.
Iwascertain of the outcome before I arrived, but I came here anyway. Hand poised to knock, I blow out my last deep breath. Three quick taps on the door and my hand falls back down to myside.
Hope isn’t what I should be feeling right now, especially when it defies logic, but it’s there anyway. Winding it’s way into my veins, creeping into myheart.
When I’ve stared at the closed door for long enough, I turn toleave.
Isaac can’t answer a door to an apartment he isn’tin.
I had to check. I need to be able to say Itried.
I’m three steps away from the question I already knew the answer to when a door behind meopens.
My stride halts and I freeze. My heart leaps into my throat.He didn’tleave.
“Excuse me? Did you knock on mydoor?”
It’s a man’s voice, but it’s not the voice of the man I’m foolishly lookingfor.
Turning around, I nod and take a stepcloser.
The guy in the doorway is average size and his red hair is pulled into a man-bun. He’s so opposite of the home’s previous tenant that it’scomical.
“I was looking for the person who used to live here.” My voice is steady but inside I’m quaking. For the shortest second I thought maybe Isaacstayed.
He holds up his palms and shrugs helplessly. “I moved in a few days ago. I’m not sure who lived here before. Or where theywent.”
I nod. “That’s OK.” Turning to leave, I say “Have a niceday.”
“Good luck,” he calls out. “I hope you find theperson.”
