The street is dark, and rain pours lightly over the car’s windows and windshield. On the other side of the asphalt, the familiar door feels like a beacon of hope, a ray of sunshine in this somber abyss.
Part of me wonders if I would have chosen to come here if Hana was in town. Would I be in Tribeca, where her townhouse is? It would be a more logical choice since I’ve known her for years, and we’ve always been there for one another. She’s my ride-or-die, infinitely more than Edward ever was.
But deep down, I know that I would still be here, not at Hana’s. My long drive from the Hamptons, which was punctuated with remorse, fears, and questions, would have led me to this very door, no matter what.Heis the only person I want to see right now.
The thought is somehow scary, and it brings another surge of emotions and questions I’m not ready to handle. Six weeks. I’ve known Jake for six weeks, and he’s supposed to be just a sex thing, not my comfort person. But here I am, hoping he’s home because I need his strength. I need him to hold me and tell me everything will be alright.
Although I should switch the engine on and drive home because it would be the proper thing to do, I ignore my doubts and reach for my phone on the dashboard.
Me
Are you still at The Devil’s Court?
I try to look up, but between the rain and the angle, I can’t see the windows of his loft, so I can’t tell if any lights are on.
This weight on my chest never really went away. My breathing still doesn’t feel right, and my mind might burst into a thousand broken pieces at any moment. I need Jake because he always makes me feel so strong. As soon as I’m with him, all of this will go away, and I’ll be able to contain it and not feel like this anymore.
The idea of heading to the bar to see if he’s there crosses my mind, but before it can mature into a decision, his answer comes.
Wombat Guy
I got home half an hour ago. Why?
With my phone and my handbag, I exit the car. I can barely feel the rain as I cross the street and look for his name on the intercom. The button makes no sound when I push it, making me wonder if this system works. But it does because the speaker crackles, and then his voice pours out of it.
“Yes?”
“It’s me.”
“Gen?” He doesn’t need my confirmation, immediately buzzing me in.
As the elevator takes me up to the fifth floor, I question again if I should be here. It’s weird, isn’t it? Who in their right mind goes to their booty call for comfort? But I’m not in my right mind, and I’m so alone in this world that he’s the only person who can help.
When I arrive at his floor, he’s standing in front of his apartment’s door, hands shoved in his jeans pockets while he waits for me with a frown.
“Is everything alright?” he worriedly asks.
The instant relief I expected from seeing him doesn’t happen. In fact, with every step my feet take toward him, this acute pressure on my chest intensifies. I can barely breathe by the time I’m with him, and my vision is blurred with tears. He notices, and before I can do anything, he takes my face into his warm hands and forces me to meet his green gaze.
“What happened?”
I shatter in a way I haven’t in ten years.
Air comes in and out of me in frantic sobs, tears uncontrollably spilling onto my cheeks, my entire body shaking with sorrow. In an instant, I’m wrapped in his solid embrace. Without it, I would have crumbled to the floor like a boneless pile of limbs.
Jake talks, his voice is soothing and full of concern, but I can barely hear it. My mind is being torn apart, and I can’t contain all those emotions.
“Gen, sweetheart, talk to me. Did something happen? Did someone hurt you?”
“Sh-she ki-kissed her,” I struggle to say between hiccups.
“Who?”
“Victoria. She had a-a girlfriend.”
This probably makes no sense to him, but he keeps me in his tattooed arms, right against his broad chest. The intensity of my sobs becomes ridiculous, and embarrassment begins to settle in me.
“Come here, love,” Jake murmurs before passing an arm to the back of my knees and lifting me.
