She would be right.
But that message never came.
Without even thinking about it, I walk over to the bathroom and turn on the shower. The water is cold, but I step inside anyway. Every nerve ending in my body jumps at the frigid temperature, but I stand in the discomfort. It feels good to persevere through it. Although I’m shivering, I do a thorough job of washing before stepping out.
The white towel I wrap around my waist barely reaches my knees but I’m not cold anymore, but I am hungry. I pad through the hallway in my bare feet and pull out a frying pan fromthe kitchen drawer. I crack a couple of eggs onto the pan and scramble them. Then, I toss a slice of bread into the toaster and pour a glass of orange juice.
I’m nearly finished my breakfast when a feeling, call it an intuition, has me turning toward my front door.
I shake my head. “Nah.” She wouldn’t show up again after I spoke to her like that.
Walking over to the door, I convince myself that there’s no way she would be out there. And yet, when I look through the peephole and see her pacing in the hallway, something inside of me breaks. My anger, my resolve, my stubbornness, it all weakens. And in its place there is another emotion. One I cannot express but takes hold of my chest like an iron fist.
“What are you doing here?” I ask when I finally open the door.
She’s wearing a long white skirt and an orange tank top. She isn’t wearing a bra. Her hair is wild and frizzy over her shoulders, and there are bags under her eyes.
She is stunning.
“You know, I asked myself that same question five minutes ago while I was eating my breakfast on the floor.”
I swallow, terrified of her response. “And what did you say to yourself?”
“That I was your friend and I wasn’t going to leave you.”
My ears burn but I bite the inside of my cheek to hold back whatever the fuck is happening inside my chest.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I was way out of line yesterday and I should never have spoken to you like that. I don’t know why you came back.”
“Thank you. I accept your apology.” Then she looks around the hallway. “So, are you going to invite me in or do you prefer we sit on the floor? I admit the carpet is quite comfortable.”
Guilt that I left her on the floor rises in my throat and chokes me. I barely get the words out, “No. Please, come in.”
She steps inside and my gaze follows her hands as she ties her hair up, her bracelets clanging while she twists the strands into a messy bun.
“There, that’s better,” she says, then looks pointedly down at my towel.
I’d completely forgotten that I’m half-naked. “Just give me a minute.”
She grins and sets a paper bag on the table. I rush back into my room and pull on some underwear, a white T-shirt and some jeans.
I’m thanking the good Lord that I showered this morning when I return to the kitchen to find a spread of food all over my counter.
“What’s all this?”
“You’ve lost a lot of muscle while you’ve been recovering. You’re going to need some help to put it back on. I’ve got some lean protein, some sturdy snacks, and some shakes that come highly recommended by a friend of mine at the health food store.”
I blink at all the effort she put in and try to be kind about it, even though I want to throw it all away because it reminds me of what I can’t have.
“That’s not necessary.”
Sage stops opening a protein pack and looks at me. “You’re right. You mentioned you already ate. Maybe later.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“So,” she says, looking around the room. “I’ve never been to your apartment. It looks nice.”
“Sage, look. I really appreciate you coming here. And truly, I’m touched by everything you’ve done. But I really got to ask because you never answered me. What are you doing here?”
