There is only one answer to that question. “Bri.”
“Uh-huh.” It’s good to see she’s getting back to her old self, pointing out my social shortcomings, laughing at her own jokes. “Go get her.”
~
I run back to my apartment and throw the basics into a bag, ready to figure out a flight when I get to the airport. When my Uber is two minutes away, I throw on my shoes and run outside, then stop right in my tracks.
The woman standing in front of my building takes my breath away. “Bri?”
“Thank fuck,” she says, steam leaving her mouth when she exhales. “I thought I had the wrong apartment again.”
“Again?”
“Not important. Hi.”
“Hi.”
I stare at her, drinking in her beauty. Her hair is pulled into a perfectly round ponytail, her nose a little red from the cold, all wrapped in a matching sweatsuit that is only appropriate for a Southern California winter.
“You’re here?” I ask, making sure I didn’t fall down my stairs and I’m dreaming while unconscious in a hospital bed.
“I am.”
I wrap her into a hug. Her body against mine is exactly as I remember, every curve fitting perfectly into my hands. She hugs me back, her grasp as tight as mine. “I’m sorry I came without calling. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to see me.”
“What?” I pull away just enough to look her in the face. I cup her cheek, confused by her words and the tears welling in her eyes. “Why would I not want to see you? I thought you wouldn’t want to seeme.”
She places her hand over mine, a tear slipping from her eye. “A phone call probably would have cleared all that up, but I was so busy packing, I didn’t think to call and tell you I was moving.”
“Tell me? Moving?”
“I transferred to the Brooklyn office. I liveherenow.”
Her presence and her words overstimulate me in the best way. Ittakes me an awkward length of time to process it all. “You live here,” is all that comes out. Not the most coherent response, but she gets it.
“I do. And I want to know if I’m here, or if I’m here with you.”
It’s a struggle to get air into my lungs, a struggle to believe she’s saying everything I planned to say to her. “You still want to be with me?”
“Yes,” she says, her voice pinched with emotion. “I’m in love with you, Liem. Stupid, fly across the country without telling you, show up on your doorstep in love with you. I want this new part of my life to be my choice, I want to be happy, and I can’t have either without you.”
She goes blurry, and I realize we’re both crying.
I kiss her, and it feels like the first deep breath I’ve taken after weeks of drowning. We kiss for seconds, minutes, hours, I don’t know, and it’s still too soon when it ends.
“You haven’t answered me,” she says against my lips with a tearful laugh. Happy tears.
“Of course I want to be with you,” I say. “Where do you think I was going?” I gesture to my suitcase lying haphazardly on the steps behind me.
She looks around as if she hasn’t seen anything but me this whole time. “Were you coming to get me?”
“Yeah.”
“Twinning again?”
“Twinning hard.”
I kiss her again and again, her passion matching mine until she shivers in my arms. “Can we go inside? It’s really cold.”
