Page 128

I let out a soft laugh, not because it’s funny but because I have so many things I want. “How long have you got?”

“Don’t be smart with me,” she mutters. “It’s been a long day.”

“I know.” My voice softens. “I just want to talk to you. Make sure you’re okay.”

“That’s why God invented cellphones, Theo.”

“You didn’t answer.”

There’s a sigh. Then a buzz. The door to her apartment building clicks. “Second floor. Use the stairs.”

“Your second floor or my second floor?” I ask.

“You’re a big boy. Figure it out.”

I push the door open and step inside. The hallway smells faintly of old wood and somebody’s overcooked dinner.

My footsteps echo as I climb the stairs, to what I hope is Georgia’s floor. One flight above the ground. I bring my luggage with me, because I don’t want it getting stolen. And sure enough, there’s a door slightly ajar right at the end of the corridor.

When I walk into her apartment my breath wooshes out of my lips. Because she’s standing there, wearing a pair of fluffy pajamas and Kermit the Frog slippers, her hair wrapped loosely in a topknot.

Damn it, I’ve never seen her look more beautiful in my life.

“Don’t move,” she whispers.

I stop dead, my hand curling around my case.

“Okay, so what do you have to say?” she asks.

“Should I close the door?” I ask, looking back at it.

She pulls her lip between her teeth. “Okay, but only because it’s late. And you have to promise not to come any closer once it’s shut.”

I frown, but nod anyway. Let’s face it, I’m lucky she’s even let me in. I push it until it clicks closed and come back next to my case.

“Do I need to stand completely still?” I ask her.

Her mouth twitches. “Don’t sass me. I just need there to be space between us. Lots of space.”

“Why? Are you afraid of me?”

She shakes her head slowly. “No. Not at all. I’m more afraid of me.”

I hate that.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I’m so damn sorry.”

She presses her lips together and gestures for me to go on.

“Last night, when Kate and Alex accused you… I can’t imagine how that felt.” My throat feels dry. “To be a stranger in that house and have them throw everything in your face.”

“I don’t give a damn about what they said,” she whispers. “It was you who hurt me.”

I squeeze my eyes shut. “I know. I know I did. And I’ve been replaying it in my mind. Every damn second of it. I should have been louder. Stronger. I should have taken you away from it all instead of thinking I had to be some kind of hero saving everybody except the person I care about.”

I meet her eyes. She looks so sad it physically hurts.

“These past few weeks…” I let out a breath. “You, us. They meant everything to me. And I made you feel like they were nothing.”