“Neither. I need you to take me to 102 and 5th,” I order, and the cabbie whistles. The driver's eyes glance at me in the rearview mirror and I catch him turning up the heat for me, even if it means he’s sweating. I anxiously stare out the window and watch the streets fly by. There are others outside, better dressed and better prepared for the weather. They are throwing snowballs and enjoying the white wonderland perfection before the snow plows and salt make it a slushy mess. We turn down the 97th Street Transverse and I almost laugh at how life can take you full circle. When the driver makes the turn and stops in front of Charlie’s building, a feeling of safety settles in my bones, and I know I’m breathing easier.
“Thank you. I can’t pay you right now, but if you wait, I promise it will be worth your time.” I watch as one of the doormen, Benji, runs out with an umbrella to greet the cab, opening the door.
The cabbie lets out a disgruntled sigh. “Yeah, sure,” he says, doubting me.
“Just wait. Please.” I say as I climb out and huddle under the umbrella. If Benji is surprised to see me, he’s too much of a professional to show it. The lighting under the awning is terrible and I hope he can’t see how much of a mess I am. I hold my head high, refusing to reduce myself any more than I already have.
“Benji, is Charlie home?” I ask, hoping that he’s here and not somewhere else for the night. I don’t know what I would do if he’s not here. I would have to go to Vivian and Jack’s as a last resort. The thought that maybe Charlie is with Ainsley crosses my mind and for a second, my heart seizes. I wouldn’t come between them if he were. I just need somewhere safe to be so I can collect my thoughts and my stuff. I don’t think Charlie would turn me away.
“Miss Elia,” Benji greets me in a neutral tone. He’s been trained to face situations that are difficult and complicated with the high paying tenants. I know he won’t let me up. He will play gatekeeper, and I can’t blame him for it.
“Can you please call up to him? Or just call him? I need to pay this guy,” I say, glancing at the cab and wishing I was back in its warmth. Benji relents, leading me inside under the umbrella. My shoes squeak on the marble floor as he goes to the lobby phone. His eyes stay on me and mine stay on the cabbie, my lips repeating his license number so even if he does drive off, I can send him money later.
I’m surprised when Jack is the one who comes down to the lobby. It takes a minute for it to register that Charlie has not come to my rescue. Jack is casually dressed and I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him look so informal.
“You need to go back to your fiancé, Elia,” his voice is hard and harsh. I’m tired of people talking down to me. Surely, Vivian told him what Bryan was really like.
But does she even really know? I downplayed it at every turn: why the pictures needed to be deleted, where the bruises were from, why I couldn’t hang out. I never placed the blame on Bryan, only on my own shortcomings. I was trying to lose weight so the pictures made me self-conscious; I was bruising easier because of a change in my diet. I didn’t feel like going out to the bars again to be hit on by strangers.
I back up until my back hits the wall and I slide down it, my head in my hands.
“I’m serious Elia. You’ve done enough damage. Vivian is heartbroken and so is my best friend. You need to go. You're a tornado, not caring who you take out.”
I feel the tears well in my eyes, hopelessness dragging me down like a rock. I will drown under this feeling.
“Can you...” My voice cracks and I clear my throat. “Can you pay the cabbie? I don’t have any money,” I whisper.
Jack sighs and squats down to my level. He’s able to get a really good look at me and he hesitates. The bruising and swelling around my eye and mouth are obvious. But he hardens his gaze due to some inward conclusion, and he doesn’t bother to ask about my injuries.
“Looking for another handout?”
I look up at him and I truly hate him. I hate admitting it to myself, but I’m sure I look like I’m in distress. And yet he still has to make me feel like a gold-digging bitch.
“I just need fare for a cab.” I can figure out the rest after this man has been paid. I could see if Benji can look up a women’s shelter that I can go to until the morning.
“I’d rather not involve him,” Jack says, but the elevator doors open and Charlie is there.
I’ve never seen a more perfect sight in my life: his arms are braced on either side of the elevator doors, eyes closed as he steadies himself. If I were standing, I know my knees would have given out at the sight of him. He’s wearing dark green sweatpants and an old crew t-shirt, looking every part the glorious man he is. I want to run to him, but I hold myself back.
“Do you know how fast this elevator is? It’s actually nauseating,” he mumbles before looking for Jack. “Where did you go, man? Trouble with the stripper?” he says, and my heart sinks.
It’s Valentine's Day; of course his best friend is here with him after I stomped on his heart. Charlie’s eyes find Jack and no stripper, but then they land on me. For a moment, I don’t move, not even able to take in a breath. He looks like he’s been drinking, his movements lacking their usual grace.
“Elia?” he asks, confused.
I look away from him, wiping my eyes. I stand up, my back to him, and I look at Jack. I try to keep my face turned away from Charlie.
“I just need cash to pay the cabbie.” I need to get out of there; I don’t want Charlie to see me like this. Jack was right; I’ve done irreparable damage and Charlie never deserved that. Jack reaches for his pocket but I feel a hand on my shoulder. Charlie turns me around, and I wipe my tears away before facing him.
He has a stubble along his cheeks but it’s more uneven and careless than while we were in Bora Bora. He always took pride in being clean-shaven and smooth. He looks more haggard than before, and I have to fight fresh tears. I clench and unclench my fists as his eyes rove over all of me, from my knotted hair to the healing cut on my lip and the bruises near my eye and neck. My bowed head had blocked Jack’s view of the bruises on my neck, but now I can hear the sharp intake of breath from his direction. Charlie says nothing, but his eyes flash angrily and he pulls me tight against him.
“You’re safe,” he whispers. His whole body is tense, full of tight energy that needs to be released, but right now his focus is on me. I feel him press his lips to the top of my head. Maybe I’m projecting or imagining it, but I think I feel something wet on my scalp. I reason that it’s not Charlie, just the long-since melted snow from the beginning of this journey.
I hesitate a moment before wrapping my arms around him as I start to cry. Behind me, the cabbie honks his horn and Charlie looks out the door at him.
I pull back, wiping at my tears. “I didn’t have any money to pay him,” I say, clenching my teeth and looking down because I don’t want to see pity on Charlie’s face.
Charlie reaches into his pocket, pulls out cash, and hands it to Jack.