"Good bad or bad bad."
"Bad bad."
"Gray."
"I'm coming to Toronto."
Silence on the line.
"When."
"Tonight."
"Gray."
"I've got a ticket. Seven thirty out of Kelowna. Lands at one your time. I'll cab from the airport. I won't wake you up. I'll wait outside."
"Grayson Mercer."
"What."
"I said I was coming back."
"I know."
"You said you would wait."
"I lied. Or I thought I meant it and I didn't. Take your pick. I'm not going to sit in this cabin another night alone knowing you're cold in a bed in a city without me in it."
A long breath on the line.
"Okay."
"Okay?"
"Okay come."
"You don't have to make room for me. You have your job. You have your life. I'm not coming to take space. I'm coming because I can't be that far from you right now. I'll stay in a hotel. I'll show up to your door when you want me and I'll leave when you don't. I'll be where you need me."
"Gray."
"Yeah."
"Just come."
I landat one in the morning. I'm in a cab by one thirty. Downtown Toronto is quiet in the way only downtown Toronto is quiet, which is to say not very. I have her address in my phone. I told her not to wait up.
She waits up.
I see her from the street when the cab pulls up. Third floor apartment. Light on. A shape at the window in a t-shirt that I'm pretty sure is mine.
I pay the driver. Grab my duffel.
The shape disappears.
By the time I get to the stoop the door is opening.
She is barefoot on the sidewalk in April. Hair loose. One of my shirts. Leggings. A jacket thrown over it all like she didn't have time to find the zipper.
