Relief and desperation stir inside of me as I cling to him. My back hits the wall of the elevator and everything else slips away, fading to black and blurring into nothing.
My breathing is chaotic and my eyes stay closed as Adrian pulls back. His plea is what forces my eyes open. “What do you need from me to prove to you that you matter to me? That I want you happy and I want you mine and I couldn’t give two shits about anything else?”
Gripping his collar, my fingers grazing against his stubble, I selfishly pull him in for another kiss, soft, slow and deliberate. He tastes minty and every bit of the man I know him to be. I could live here in this elevator if it meant kissing him forever.
Staring back into his pale blue gaze, I stop myself from the response that begs to be heard. The words are on the tip of my tongue. I love you, Adrian. Instead, I kiss him again, needing the stability of his body, until he pulls back to catch his breath. “Will you text me tonight when you’re done?” I attempt to make it sound casual, but I’m not sure if it works. “I’m sorry I’m so needy right now.”
He takes my face in his hands and looks me in the eye. “Stop saying you’re sorry. I will text you.” Adrian leans down and presses a kiss to my cheek. “Do you want Noah to take you home?”
I shake my head. “I can spend the evening with Maddie.”
Adrian reaches for another button on the elevator’s panel, and then we’re moving down again. He kisses me all the way to the bottom. “I’ll text you,” he promises again. One more kiss and the elevator doors open. Adrian is completely self-possessed and put together by the time he steps out of those silver doors and disappears into the lobby.
If only I could be the same.
Maddie’s apartment is a cute, small place in SoHo. By small, I mean teeny tiny. It’s a one bedroom with a decent-sized living room. A crocheted blanket from her grandmother rests on the back of her sofa and our takeout containers are spread out on the coffee table. The comparison of her place to Adrian’s is unavoidable. They are complete contrasts. From the view to the flooring, even the light fixtures. All Maddie has is a single lamp in the corner and ceiling lights in the kitchen. Maddie’s fridge hums in the little kitchen off the living room and every so often the radiator makes a clicking sound. Even if it is small, it’s comforting to be here. It reminds me of when I first moved here. Before my ex, before this job. Over a decade ago now.
Curled up on the other side of the couch, Maddie works her way through the Chinese I picked up on the way here and groans about her latest hellish dating experience.
“He wanted me to pay for everything, including his dinner, after he was such a dick because, quote unquote, ‘If you don’t want to see me again, that’s on you and you wasted my time,’” she says. Her eyes widen just as mine do, with disbelief. “I shit you not.”
“That is … exceptionally … like, I don’t even have words.”
“I would have been happy to split the bill, but are you kidding me? I’m not going to pay a fee for not liking the guy.”
“That sounds awful,” I say, commiserating. “It’s bullshit that you even have to put up with guys like that.”
“I don’t,” Maddie tells me and laughs. “I left him in that restaurant. I just wish there were more good guys on this freaking app, you know? It’s so exhausting to have to search through all of them. Like I’m obviously not good at picking, could someone else do it for me?” A titter leaves her, but I know she’s less than happy and there’s truth to the statement.
“I haven’t looked at a dating app in a long time now.” Stirring the lo mein with my fork, I add, “Not for … months now?” I surmise, “Not since those first few weeks of the separation.”
Chewing my inner cheek, I keep my next thoughts to myself. I never would have found a man like Adrian on an app. My throat is tight with how much I miss him, and how I want things to be normal between us. It’s been a long damn time since I’ve missed someone. Truly missed them, and that realization toys with me as well as Adrian himself does.
“Men are trash,” Maddie says and sighs, and that’s what does it.
I break down crying over my Chinese food. What the hell is wrong with me? “I swear I better be getting my period or something because I am nothing but an emotional wreck today.” I create the excuse, pushing it out the moment I lose it. The small napkins from the restaurant make for perfect tissues.