She reached into her pocket. When she unfurled her hand, Anne could see a small paper triangle sitting in her palm.
Suddenly, it was like the world had been put on pause.
Anne reached for it, holding it between her fingers tentatively.
“I’m going to go in the back and talk to the caterers about cleanup, okay?” Sophie said, sending Anne a knowing smirk. She didn’t wait for an answer before she disappeared through the door.
It was a long minute before Anne unfolded the note. Eventhen, the sight of Freddie’s handwriting, smudged here and there along the page, was almost too much. And then she began to read:
It’s Tuesday, December 2nd. You’re standing in the window of Eufloria, surrounded by people waiting to congratulate you and talk to you, and I’m standing outside watching in absolute awe. You’re a revelation, Annie. Don’t think of ever telling someone you don’t like parties again, because they will never believe you.
It’s snowing hard now, and I can’t feel my feet. I know I should go in and join that crowd congratulating you, but I also know that I can’t. Because tonight is for you, about you, and if I’m there I would just insert myself in the worst way possible, because there’s only one thing I will want to say.
I love you, Annie. I have never loved anyone more than I love you. You pierce my soul every time you so much as look at me. I am half agony, half hope when you walk into a room.
And I know I don’t deserve you. I’ve been resentful and angry. And I could apologize a thousand times and it might never be enough. But please know I never stopped loving you. I don’t think I ever could.
I’m asking Sophie to wait until the party’s over to give you this. And after you read it, if you feel even a fraction of the way about me as I do about you, come home. I’ll be waiting for you.
—Freddie
Anne looked up at the empty shop, eyes wide and heart thumping against her ribs.
“Sophie!” she yelled. “I have to go. I’ll call you tomorrow!”
“Not too early!” Sophie called back. “I’m treating myself to a room at the Bowery Hotel tonight and I plan to sleep in!”
Anne smiled and started for the door.
She didn’t realize she forgot her coat until she was already out the door. After just one block, her hair was covered in snow, her dress was soaking, and her heels—
BEEP!
A taxi slammed on its brakes and narrowly avoided her as she stepped into the street. The driver opened the window and flipped her the middle finger.
“Sorry!” she called out loudly over her shoulder, running onto the sidewalk, dodging piles of wet accumulation, and jumping past people congregating outside a bar, huddled together as they vaped.
“Go get ’em, girl!” one of them yelled.
She could see Tompkins Square Park in the distance, and it looked empty tonight except for the towering lit Christmas tree, the colored lights sparkling as the snow fell, but she didn’t have time to admire it. When she reached Avenue A, she turned and darted inside the lobby of the Uppercross.
It was blessedly warm when she burst inside and rushed over to the waiting elevator. She pressed eight and waited, rubbing her arms for warmth as she watched the numbers slowly light up above the doors as she ascended.
The doors slid open again once she reached the eighth floor, and Anne burst out, but stopped just as quickly. The door to 8A was slightly ajar, with the soft light of the fireplace bleeding through the crack.
She approached slowly, her teeth no longer chattering, and pushed open the door.
Inside, the apartment was warm, with only the fire lighting thespace. And sitting on the long sofa in front of it was Freddie. He was facing the fire with a drink in his hand, so he didn’t notice as she stepped forward into the center of the room.
“Freddie,” she said.
He turned at the sound of his name, his expression stoic. Then his gaze darted down her body and concern knitted his brow. “Annie—”
“I’m sorry,” she blurted out. “I was so busy at the party that I didn’t see you. I didn’t know you were just outside, or that you came, or—”
“Annie.” His deep voice cut her off as he stood up. “Where’s your coat?”
She looked down. Her skin was covered in goose bumps and the delicate green fabric of her dress was sodden and sticking to her body.
