“Finalmente,” I mutter, eager to get her out of here and take her somewhere she’ll feel safe and peaceful—namely not trapped in an elevator with me against her will.
The lights flicker sporadically in the ceiling, illuminating her face for about ten seconds at a time. When I catch a glimpse of her, she doesn’t look upset or anxious anymore—she looks hurt. There must be something else she’s not telling me.
I pause, searching her face for signs she’s still panicking, but come up empty. “They’re getting us out of here. Isn’t this what you wanted?”
Tessa’s face seems to fall at my question. “Yeah. It’s what I wanted.”
Her words don’t match her body language, though, and I’m more confused than ever.
She folds her arms. “Listen. If you changed your?—”
Before she can finish her sentence, the doors are pried open, and the yellow reflective strips of emergency personnel uniforms come into view. We’re slightly below the second floor lobby, so two of the firefighters reach down for Tessa and lift her out before helping me climb out of the elevator. After thanking them, we descend the first of two flights of stairs in silence.
I know the last place Tessa probably wants to be is here with me, and I don’t want her to walk anywhere on her own in her state, so I quickly order a rideshare. I remember her mentioning the street where she lives, but not the number. Hopefully, it’ll beclose enough. The confirmation dings on my phone before I slip it back into my pocket.
I hear Tessa sigh before she starts speaking, still walking down the stairs in front of me. “So, things got intense in there. If we’re going to do this…” She trails off, blowing out a breath.
“If?” After all of her hard work, she deserves to see her own line come to fruition. “Aren’t you tired of being a junior designer? You should take advantage of every opportunity.”
I can immediately tell that my tone came out all wrong. I’m about to apologize, but when she swivels her head and my eyes meet hers, I’m surprised to see a flash of resentment.
“As ifyou’renot the reason?—”
“Can we pause?” I interrupt. It’s been quite possibly the longest night of my life, and I don’t want to do anything that will trigger another panic attack for her. Bickering about why she’s still atLamontwhen her talent is being irrefutably wasted in a junior designer role isn’t high on my priority list right now.
Shockingly, her lips stay closed as she turns away from me and stomps down two steps.
I’m already thinking of ways our interaction could’ve gone better. I run through scenarios in my head, which might’ve led to a different outcome where she doesn’t feel so… Well, I’m not sure exactly how she’s feeling.
Then I hear her sniffle.
As soon as a small gasp escapes her lips, I freeze in place on the landing. What the fuck was that?
Three more steps.
“Tessa, wait.”
Two more, her pace faster than before.
“Hey. Look at me.”
Tessa spins around. “What now, Giovanni?”
My eyes widen in horror at her tear-stained cheeks. Every one of my muscles seems to tighten as something unyielding and protective surges through me.
After a moment of silence, she shakes her head and faces away from me, walking down another step.
I scramble for what to say. “Just… just give me a second. I don’t want you to—don’t leave me when you’re upset.”
Don’t walk away.An unmistakable instinct to comfort her settles heavy in my ribs.
“What, then? What is it?” she repeats, turning around and wiping a tear off her face with the back of her hand. Embarrassment flickers in her eyes before she averts them, staring at the ground.
“I…” I trail off, suddenly unable to pick out the right words in English. Instead of trying, I walk down a few steps to meet her. My arms want to wrap her up, but my hand lifts to squeeze her shoulder.
Tessa glances at my hand in surprise, like it’s a foreign artifact, before looking back at me. We linger in the stillness stretching between us in the stairwell, each of us waiting for the other to break it. For a second, I think she leans into my touch. But then her gaze slips from mine, and I know the moment’s passed. She moves and I follow, the silence shadowing us until we reach the complex’s front door.
The cool night wind hits our faces and blows her hair back. Her skin glistens in the moonlight, the sheen of sweat still coating her forehead from the elevator.
