“Wow.” I’d geared up to really beg her in case she didn’t want to get in the middle of our drama. “Thank you.”
“I’m glad you’re finally calling him. The two of you are driving me nuts.”
“Huh?”
“You think I haven’t noticed the way you perk up when I mention him? And Rob’s the same. I talked to him a week ago, and he was all supercasual. ‘So how’s Lauren doing? Who’s she dating these days?’ I told him I didn’t know because I figured you’d kill me if I said you’re still as hung up on him now as you were six months ago. I still don’t get it, by the way. But I hope you can patch things up.”
My phone pinged with Rob’s new cell number and his home address. His email was the same. But I only needed to know where he lived because this wasn’t the kind of conversation we could have online or even on the phone. I had to talk to him, face-to-face, and find out if there was any hope of fixing the broken between us.
“Me, too.”
“Good luck,” she said. “I have to go before these hooligans duct tape my assistant to something.”
When I hung up and turned around, I spotted Avery perched at the foot of the stairs. “When are you leaving?”
I liked that she didn’t secretly expect me to chicken out. “I have to put in for vacation days. I’m not calling in sick. I have to do it right.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, I hope he forgives you.”
“Me, too.”
After taking care of Happy, I got ready and went to work a bit early. The office staff was already on site, so I asked for the paperwork and filled it out during my lunch hour. According to the documentation, all such requests required a week to process, so I wouldn’t be getting my three-day weekend this pay period. But they approved it for the following Friday. Afterward, I was so wound up that I probably scared the prospective customers with my too-wide smile.
Finally, five o’clock rolled around, and I zipped home. Happy was glad to see me; I fed her and opened a can of soup, then I went upstairs to make travel arrangements. Flying alone was the kind of thing that could send me straight into a panic attack before, but as I bought the tickets, I breathed through it. Why are you so scared? Is it really the flying? When I analyzed the tightness in my chest, the fear came from the prospect of facing Rob. It wasn’t that I was afraid to grovel, more that despite what Nadia said, he wouldn’t care how I felt or what I had to say.
Unpacking the emotions gave them less power over me, though. I worked through the feelings as Dr. Reid had taught me, and then stowed them in their proper place. For the next week, I kept busy. I worked extra hard on my data structures project and I turned in my ethics paper early. By Thursday night, I was packed and ready.
I didn’t bother to rent a hotel room. If things went badly with Rob, I’d just change my return and hang out at the airport until I could go home. That possibility filled my stomach with lead as I drove two hours to the airport, where I left my car in long-term parking and then caught the shuttle to my terminal. This was so different from the time I’d come to Toronto with Rob. I didn’t realize how well he managed things until I had to get in lines on my own.
Somehow I survived the waiting and the flight. At the Toronto airport, I stopped in the restroom to check my hair and makeup. Refreshing my lipstick made me feel better, then I went down to the taxi stand, got one and gave the guy Rob’s address. I’d looked up the location on Google Maps the night before, but it wasn’t the same as seeing the city open up all around me. The cabbie seemed to sense I wasn’t in the mood to chat, so he made no small talk as I clutched my backpack and stared out the window at the passing cityscape.
Maybe I should’ve called.
Normally I’d be sweating and hyperventilating by now, so this was a great field test for the coping strategies I had been practicing. Wryly I thought, I’m definitely stronger. Too soon or maybe not soon enough, the taxi stopped outside a white stone building. It didn’t have a lot of personality, nothing to separate it from the ones on either side. With a mental shrug, I paid the driver and got out. He pulled away as I stood at the curb, staring up. The place wasn’t fancy enough to have a doorman, but there were intercoms. I hadn’t considered that I wouldn’t just be able to go knock on his door. Crap, defeated by small-town mentality.
But I’d come too far to stop now. So I marched over and pressed the button for his apartment. Nothing. It was just past one in the afternoon, so maybe I’d timed it wrong. He could be shooting for the show or doing an appearance. Dammit. What now? Disheartened, I walked a couple of blocks until I found a coffee place and bought a latte, then I went back to his apartment and pushed the button again, like I could will him to answer. It didn’t work.
Then I’ll wait.
Sitting on a bench wasn’t how I envisioned this reunion. Like the last time I was in Toronto, I got out my phone and read while keeping an eye on passersby. The last thing I wanted was to miss Rob and end up spending the night here. Getting arrested for vagrancy wasn’t part of the plan. It was chilly enough that the cold bench numbed my butt, but if I went back to the café, I might miss him. Two hours passed, and I’d long since finished my drink when a familiar figure strode down the sidewalk toward me.
He was a little leaner, probably because he wasn’t doing hard labor on construction sites anymore. His face seemed more chiseled, eyes brighter in contrast to his dark hair. He was wearing jeans, a black shirt and a fleece-lined jacket, the perfect amount of rugged. I could easily imagine TV viewers all over Canada falling in love with him when the first show aired. The sight of Rob after so many months apart hit me harder than I expected; I froze, unable to speak as he drew closer, and he almost passed me. Then his gaze sharpened, his steps slowed, then stopped altogether, no more than five feet away.
“Lauren,” he said.
That was all. That one word gave me no clue how he felt. I hadn’t talked to him since that awful night. I met his gaze, wondering if I had the courage for this. Then I remembered what Krista said about imagining life without the one you love. I’ll swing for the fences. What was it people said about moments like this, Go big or go home?
“Hey. Do you have a minute to talk?”
“Just one?”
“Possibly more. We can go to the coffee shop if you don’t want to invite me up.”
“No, it’s fine. Come on.” He beckoned me toward the building, and my legs were so stiff that I could hardly toddle. “Jesus. How long have you been sitting here?”