During the drive over the bridge, her knee rattles anxiously as she glances out the window. Closer to him, across the gleam of skyscrapers, the churn of the dark river.
Everywhere, she feels the possibility of nearness, the heat of uncertainty: uncertainty, open and bright.
The air is warm, and she rolls down the window. They drive through the traffic of SoHo, dense with restaurants, nights out, gallery openings. Red taillights gleam, traffic at a standstill. A few teenage skateboarders swerve between the cars on Canal, tapping bumpers.
“I can walk the rest,” she tells Richard around Lafayette; waves aside his protests, tells him it’ll be easier.
Her heart thuds loud as she walks through her city at night. Down Walker, away from the rush and noise of Broadway. Past dark galleries, shuttered for the night; the restaurant at the end of his block, busy.
She glances up at his building.
The lights in the loft are on.
A wave, as she passes Louis; he nods her towards the hall with a warm smile. “Have a good evening, Miss Marwan.”
In the elevator, she counts seconds, and her heartbeat: a thrum, faster, and faster.
The doors open on the loft.
Aleksandr turns, standing in the living room. He’s by the windows; was looking down at the street.
She looks at him, and he meets her gaze.
He starts to smile.
The elevator closes behind her.
Lili inhales.
