“I’d rather not do it through this thick glass. But I will.”
Aubrey stares at him before slowly opening the door. He slips inside and that hint of clove floats toward her.
“The sorry is easy. I’m sorry, Aubrey. There’s no world in which I’d ever hurt you.”
Aubrey’s stomach clenches. She can’t say the same.
“The explanation?” he says. “Well, our drinks date wasn’t in my calendar, and I’m pathetically dependent on that electronic rectangle to run my life. Make that plural. Rectangles, one for work, one for personal, but I didn’t put our date in either one.”
“That’s not my fault,” she says, even though she’s spent the past few weeks feeling like everything surrounding Ethan is her fault.
“Actually it is. You were there. Right there, in fact.” He leans in. “This close. Remember, you, me, the Skee-Ball...”
That was where he’d kissed her, his lips on hers for the first time here but conjuring the thousands of times at home.
“Somehow...” His hand settles on her waist. “I was a little too distracted to grab my phone.”
Sweat gathers beneath the armpits of her linen shirt, and her body reacts before her mind, pressing against him. He pulls back, and she realizes she’s being too forward. He can’t understand the intimacy she feels. But then his hand disappears into the canvas messenger bag looped across his chest. When it surfaces, Aubrey’s lungs squeeze.
“You are somebody’s reason to smile.”
Lying flat on his open palm is a rock with a quote painted in yellow. There are no rocks with sayings on them in this Aubrey’s apartment, not that Ethan has been in this Aubrey’s apartment. She’s positive she didn’t mention them on their date at the arcade. If he did ever come here, saying she had a collection of painted rocks wouldn’t make any sense. And besides, she didn’t want him to think she was saccharine or immature.
It’s a sign from the universe. This is right. She and Ethan are meant to be.
She leads him into her apartment and to the bed with its freshly washed sheets.
They arrive at Ilena’s a half hour late—a betrayal of those perfectly labeled hangers. But worth it. So very worth it.
Aubrey clings to Ethan’s hand, her heart still pumping so hard it could keep a team of gymnasts alive. In Ethan’s bag is the bottle of cabernet they stopped for on the way even though red gives Aubrey a headache. But Ethan’s right that it’s more sophisticated for a dinner party.
She texted Kai while Ethan was at the register. She said she was feeling a bit off and might just do a quick drop-in to Ilena’s, so he probably shouldn’t bother making the trek to join her. He’dresponded with a thumbs-up emoji. Kai was sweet and made her laugh, but he was just a one-night stand she didn’t remember. Ethan was her past and her present and a future she never got the chance to have. Except maybe now she would.
“Thanks for making me smile,” Ethan whispers in the elevator that’s nearly the size of her apartment. Felix’s condo—Felix and Ilena’s condo—is in one of the newly renovated warehouses along the waterfront originally designed for cartons of tea and spices and all manner of imported goods. Maybe she and Ethan could move here, try something new.
The elevator stops on the top floor and the door to the condo opens, revealing breathtaking harbor views through windows that soar from the dark wood floors to the industrial pipes running along the ceiling. Aubrey wonders if she and Ethan moved here if they should get a boat. They could take sailing lessons together. Hobbies bring couples closer, don’t they?
Felix excitedly ushers them in. He hugs Aubrey, relieves Ethan of his bag, and Aubrey remembers that this Felix doesn’t know who Ethan is. She rushes an introduction, and “thanks for having me” and “congratulations” and “general counsel” and “cloud data storage” and a stream of small-talk pleasantries drift over Aubrey as she enters Ilena’s home, trying not to gawk like it’s her first time.
Beside a glass bar cart, wearing a plaid coat too heavy for summer, Mallory rocks on her heels, having a conversation with James, though Aubrey can tell she’s not paying attention. She hates these things, and presumably this particular thing even more than usual—this admittedly somewhat bizarrely timed celebration of Ilena’s baby. Ilena’s desire to be a mom triggered something unseemly in Mallory, perhaps simply selfishness, though Aubrey would like to think it runs deeper than that, not that something deeper would make it okay.
Upon hearing Felix’s welcome, Mallory turns, her eyesfloating to Ethan, and heat rises in Aubrey’s cheeks, even though she’s an adult and she’s free to have sex with whomever she wants but especially her fiancé. Especially when the sex was so good. Not that it was bad in her world, not always, but there was a degree of awkward, at least for Aubrey. She’d blamed herself, knowing she needed to lighten up, not dwell on past choices of boys and men she wanted who didn’t want her, but maybe the only way to do that was to be somewhere without so much history weighing her down.
Mallory continues acting strangely, jutting her chin, pointing with the heel of her strappy sandal and what is she—
“Aubrey, there you are,” Ilena says, sparkling water bottle in hand. “Your guest has already arrived. And so very helpful.”
“My guest? Helpful? But he’s not—”
Kai steps out from behind Ilena carrying a tray of skewers—shrimp, chicken, mozzarella, eggplant, every allergen and dietary restriction accounted for. His slight, unsure smile doesn’t give room for those dimples she’d wanted to stick her finger in at the bar. “I was early,” he says. “Already here when I got your text, so I figured I’d stick around. Just in case you needed anything.”
Her throat’s so dry she can’t get out a sound.
“Hey now.” Ethan plants himself next to her, two lowball glasses already in hand.
Kai tightens his grip on the tray. He doesn’t meet Aubrey’s eye. He can’t see the utter horror that’s spreading across her face.
Ethan passes Aubrey a drink before laying an arm around her shoulders. “Genius idea, underlings doubling as servers? Way to be the boss, Aubrey Katherine.” He leans over the tray, debating the content of the skewers.
