Before I can respond, she leaves, her scent trailing behind her, and a blue and red strand of her hair on the chair.
CHAPTER NINE
Blue
The elevator doors close, and the second they do, the breath I've been holding collapses out of me like I've been strangled. My knees wobble. My spine trembles. The whole carefully composed façade I held together in front of Red evaporates in an instant.
He said he needed time to think.
It's the most dangerous phrase in the world. People don't think their way back to you. They think their wayout.
By the time I reach the lobby, my fingers are shaking. The security guard gives me a polite nod. I pretend to walk toward the exit like a normal person, but I know there's nothing normal about me. I'm one decision away from losing my cool.
He can't abandon me.
What if I never see him again?
I can't let that happen.
I push through the glass doors and step outside into the light. The sun throws long shadows across the sidewalk. The cold air slaps my cheeks and wakes up every terrified nerve under my skin.
I walk around the corner of the building and tuck myself into a shadow. It's quiet and hidden. Perfect for no one noticing me.
My heartbeat thuds inside my throat. I shouldn't be doing this. Normal patients don't wait outside their therapist's office to see what he does after a session.
But then again, nothing about us is normal.
And I'm not losing him.
I keep replaying the moment I left.
Text me tonight with an appointment time, or text me goodbye.
I shouldn't have said it. It was impulsive and not what I planned. It was me ripping open every wound I've ever had and dumping them into his hands.
He listened to me. Really listened. But I don't know if I shook him enough to make him not cut me off.
He tried to be professional, yet all it did was put fire in my veins. Everything turned clear. He's scared, but not of me. He wants to keep me. It was written all over his face, and I don't know if I convinced him I was worth the risk.
My breath hitches. I'm scared too, so fear drives me to lurk in the shadows and wait.
A couple of hours drag by like decades. People leave the building in unpredictable waves. Since it's Sunday, there isn't much activity, which only makes it more boring.
Each door creak shoots cold straight through my belly. Twice, I think about walking back inside to see if his light is still on, and he's still in his office, but I stay put. There's no way I missed him.
Why aren't you leaving, Red?
He said he needed to think.
Does he think in his office?
Is he inside, thinking about what he's allowed to do versus what he wants to do? Or is he convincing himself to ditch me?
My pulse quickens, imagining both situations. The longer I wait, the more desperation hits me.
I need to know if he's keeping me.
Finally, the door opens, and he appears. Red steps outside looking exhausted in that beautiful, tense way he carries everything. His shoulders are slightly bowed, like he's been holding up the entire world and someone just gave him permission to set it down for a minute. He rubs a hand over his jaw, and I almost melt behind the pillar.
