She paused, waiting for more, but he stayed silent.
“Missed what?” she asked.
“Us.”
The silence seemed to vibrate in the air between them. She had never been more aware of her breathing, how it suddenly seemed to match time with her pulse as his gaze fell to her mouth, then back up to meet her eyes.
“Don’t you miss it?” he murmured.
She nodded slowly. “Yeah.”
For a second he didn’t move. It didn’t even look like he was breathing. “What do you miss?”
Her heart was a wild animal in her chest, slamming against her rib cage even as her whole body was still, frozen under his scrutiny.
“I miss talking with you,” she said softly. “I miss laughing.”
He took a step toward her.
“I miss coming home and smelling like you,” she continued. “That mix of soap and sandalwood and that cinnamon toothpaste your mom used to buy.”
The corner of his mouth twitched.
She smiled, too, but it faded just as soon as it appeared, swallowed up by the enormity of everything she wanted to say.
“I miss how you looked at me.” Her voice was barely a whisper now. “I miss how you made me feel.”
He took another step forward. He was only inches from her now.
“And how’s that?”
She sighed, already ashamed of how pathetic she sounded. “Like I was someone special.”
“Yeah. I know that feeling,” he said, his eyes studying hers. Then he reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “So, what should we do?”
God, it would be so easy to arch up and kiss him right now. Lose herself in him the way she used to. She could convince herself that if she held him close, it would erase all the resentment and pain that had been allowed to fester between them, fill the cracks that had existed at the heart of this for so long.
But then Sophie’s words rattled in her brain.
Sometimes love isn’t enough to fix everything else.
It was true, as much as she hated to admit it right now. If they really wanted to fix this, then they couldn’t just rely on love. They had to put in the work.
“Let’s go grab a coffee,” she said. “And… talk.”
He smiled. “Okay. I’ll get my coat.”
CHAPTER 22
Anne and Freddie had always been good at wandering. It was a habit they had picked up early in their relationship—meandering the city streets for hours while their conversation flowed through every topic under the sun—and now it came back to them like they had never stopped. Like it was second nature.
Anne couldn’t ignore the subtle differences now, though. Like how Freddie didn’t hold her hand. Or how she was so careful not to cut him off while he was speaking, or how he didn’t crack the same jokes as he had done so many years before. Every step felt deliberate, like they were retracing their path to find something they had lost along the way.
This is fine, she told herself as they grabbed two coffees from Monkford Café. They were playing catch-up. That’s what this was about, wasn’t it? They had to work to get back to being friends—or whatever this was that was building between them. She just had to relax and trust the process.
She tamped down her anxiety as they made their way downtown, crossing Houston Street so they could roam through the Lower East Side. There was a snowstorm due to hit the city in justa couple of days, but for now the sky was clear and the chill mild enough for her peacoat to keep it at bay as they reminisced about punk rock karaoke nights at Arlene’s Grocery and their favorite bars where they could always get in even without an ID.
By the time they reached Delancey Street and turned toward Soho, Freddie had started to describe his time in Argentina, how the very first installations of his hydroponics system were with indigenous villages in the north, and how they were so successful that he had garnered international attention.
