“Hi,” she repeated. It sounded almost offhand, like the word was a reflex while her brain tried to make sense of the last thirty seconds. “What are you doing here?”
“I live here,” he replied.
Somewhere in her brain, she recognized that voice—she had dreamed about it over the past eight years—but now it was missing some key component. The warmth, the light tinge that made it sound like he was always just a few moments away from laughter.
A thousand different questions swirled in her head. Her brain desperately grasped at them, trying to formulate at least one into a coherent string of words. Maybe then she could think of what else to say, ask what he meant, and why—
“Is that Freddie?” Cricket’s voice called down the hall. Anne could hear her bounding toward them until Cricket’s body slid in beside her own in the doorway. “Freddie! I totally forgot you were stopping by today.”
From the lip gloss to the low-cut leotard Cricket was now wearing, Anne doubted very much that she had forgotten. But whether Freddie knew that or not didn’t seem to matter.
Cricket sighed and leaned against the doorframe. “How are you?”
Freddie’s gaze bounced between Cricket and Anne, his confusion creating a deep crease between his eyebrows.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so rude!” Cricket let out a bubbly laugh. “Freddie, this is my roommate, Anne.”
His gaze snapped to Anne again. She was ready to offer a yet-to-be-conceived excuse as to why she was living with a twenty-two-year-old wearing a leotard at noon on a Tuesday, but then Cricket continued.
“Anne, this is Freddie. He’s the one who bought your dad’s apartment.”
No. No no no.This wasn’t happening.
A heavy silence swallowed them up as Freddie stared at her.
Anne’s mouth fell open again. But to say what? There was no way he knew that he had just bought her old apartment. How could he? She’d never had the courage to invite him over; all she had told him during the course of their relationship was that she lived on Avenue A. Even if he had suspected—which she highly doubted, considering the expression on his face right now—hecouldn’t possibly have assumed she would still be here. Eight years was a long time, and when they last spoke, she had big plans that should have left this place far behind.
Should have. God, that was becoming the mantra of her life.
“Good to see you, Freddie,” she finally said.
He nodded, his jaw tight. “You, too.”
“Wait.” Cricket’s lips made a bow. “Do you two know each other?”
“We were at NYU together,” Anne replied quickly. She was working hard to maintain a smile, but it felt thin across her face as she met Freddie’s gaze again.
“Right,” he replied. His expression was unreadable.
“Oh my gosh, that’s insane!” Cricket said, batting a hand against Anne’s arm. “And to think, you literallyjustmoved the last of your things out of there. How crazy that you both didn’t know!”
“So crazy,” he said, his tone flat.
Anne wanted to crawl under a piece of furniture and die.
Cricket laughed for a little too long. “You’re so funny!”
“I try,” he said, flashing her a tight smile. “Well, I have painters arriving soon, so about those keys…”
“Oh! Right.” Cricket turned and grabbed a manila envelope off the entry table along with a set of keys, then handed both to him. “There’s the key to the apartment, and the key card for the roof.”
“Thanks,” he said, taking it.
“I also put my number in there, in case you have any problems. Or you need someone to take you around the neighborhood. I can show you where to get the best cup of coffee.” Cricket shrugged, as if the idea had just come to her.
Anne averted her eyes, but they only ended up landing on Freddie again. He wasn’t looking at her anymore, but somehow that was worse. Like he wouldn’t acknowledge her at all.
“We should let him go, Cricket,” Anne cut in, her hand gripping the doorknob so tightly she thought she might break it. “I’m sure he’s anxious to go up and get settled.”
