***
After dinner, I shower and tame my curls. I put on a sundress, even though it’s nearly dark, and the espadrilles Gabi finally returned, because they make my legs look almost as good as hers. I use mascara and perfume and my favorite vanilla lip gloss.
Tati said she’d wait up, so I leave the apartment empty-handed—no phone or keys or gloss for touch-ups. I’m free; I feel like I’m moving in the right direction for the first time in a very long time.
During my trip down in the elevator, I list the things I need to say.Last night hurt me. I want us to be honest with each other.Thank you for punching Damon’s stupid face.I also review the things I don’t want to do: get defensive, back down, storm off.
As the elevator stops, butterflies lift off in my stomach. I hesitate when the doors open, like my cute shoes have glued themselves to the floor. I force myself to step into the lobby. I’m nervous, but Henry has earned my effort.
I make my way into the softly lit courtyard. The sun has set, but the sky still glows lavender. Palm fronds dance in the breeze. I approach the pool, which is deserted, looking up at the east tower as I move across the deck.
Maybe he’s out grabbing dinner.
Maybe he’s sleeping off the horribleness of the last twenty-four hours.
Maybe he’s with his dad, enjoying a guys’ night now that Davis has been sprung.
“Piper?”
My gaze drops from the eighth floor to the other side of the pool.
Henry.
I stop like I’ve come up against an invisible wall: abruptly and without grace.
“Where are you headed?” he calls.
To you.
But the words get caught in my throat, and my eyes are welling with tears. I shrug like a half-wit, then cover my face with my hands.
When he says my name again, this time with concern, he sounds much closer. I peek out from between my fingers,mortified by the way I’ve fallen apart at the mere sight of him, to find that he’s hustled around the pool. He’s wearing a white T-shirt and tan shorts and flip-flops. His chestnut hair is hidden beneath a backward baseball hat. He looks listless, like his spirit has been siphoned out of him.
“Tell me why you’re upset,” he says, and the way he phrases it, like my unhappiness is a burden he insists on sharing, breaks me apart.
He doesn’t wait for an answer.
He opens his arms in the loveliest invitation.
My cheek nestles against his sternum. I clutch his shirt, and he wraps his arms around me, exhaling so deeply that I feel all his frustration, anger, and sadness retreat in that swell of air.
We stand there until the wind dies down, leaving the night warm and still. When I draw back, he smooths my curls, which have already gone frizzy. “Are you okay?”
“No, I’m a mess. Are you okay?”
He smiles down at me. “I’m getting there.”
Henry
We head toward the pool, the place we met three years ago. This is where I first noticed how pretty she is. Where I first decidedI wanted to know her. I kick off my shoes and sit on the deck, sinking my feet into the cool water. She does the same, trying not to flash me as she maneuvers in her dress. I study the stars until she’s settled, and then I focus on her.
“How’s your dad?” she asks.
“Okay. He went to bed early. Been a long day.”
“For you too, I bet.”
“I watched him pour a half rack of beers and a dozen bottles of booze down the drain, so it hasn’t been all bad.”
