Page 29 of The Probability of Us

“No.” His voice is small and he looks down at our feet that are only shuffling side to side at this point. I want to ask about the red flush on his cheeks, but I have a sneaking suspicion it’ll only bring us back to the same silence we just got out of.

I would tell him about my visits, but considering I already had plans to go to Boston this weekend long before he got here, it might be fun to make this a surprise.

At the end of the night, I walk with Warren back to his hotel and we both pause outside, not wanting to separate and risk ruining this bridge that’s building between us. One storm could bring it crumbling down, but a few more connections and it’ll be strong enough to bear weight. The distance between us is shrinking, but it’s not gone just yet.

“Oh, don’t forget this,” he says, breaking the silence as he hands me my stained jacket.

“Right, thanks.” I take it and look down at the jacket I’m wearing—his jacket. I suck in one last breath of his smell before starting to shrug out of it. “I guess I should give you this back.”

But before it slips off my shoulders, he grabs both sides and wraps it back around me, using it to pull me closer to him. His lips brush against my neck up to my ear. “Keep it, you look sexy as hell in my clothes.”

“I—” I start but don’t know what I want to say. Do I ask him to tell me everything? Do I wait for him to understand that’s what I need? I don’t know what the right answer is, so no words come out.

“I know, me too,” he says with a sad smile. It’s the first sign he’s given me that he understands. That maybe, just maybe, he’s trying to figure out how to tell me the same way I’m trying to figure out how to ask. He said in his text that he made a mistake and didn’t know how to explain it. I hope he’s trying to figure it out, because when he leans in and kisses my cheek, exactly where the cut is, my stomach does somersaults. It’s so tender and intimate that my lower lip trembles and I have to hold my jacket tighter in my hands to keep from reaching out to him. “Goodnight, Analise.”

“Goodnight, Warren,” I say. But when he starts to walk away, I reach out and grab his hand—just long enough to make him look over his shoulder. “I’m glad the universe brought us back together too.”

And it’s the truth. It’s what needed to happen, even if we don’t end up together and all I get out of this is the closure I’ve been searching for all these years.

His responding smile is bright enough to light the whole city.

Eleven

AUGUST CURRENT DAY (THURSDAY)

Irush to work after spending too long talking to Ali at Kallia. I didn’t have to say anything, but she knew what I was waiting for. My eyes kept flashing to the door, and I’d find ways to draw out the conversation and stay just a bit longer—hoping to see him, hoping he’d show up.

But he didn’t.

I know I pulled away and brought on some uncomfortable moments last night, but that connection between us has been rebuilding one string at a time, and I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to resist its pull.

I almost wore his blazer today just because I knew his eyes would be on me all day if I did, but it’s obviously many sizes too large on me and would likely raise questions, so it’s hanging at the front of my closet and I’m in one of my typical pantsuits.

When I get to the office, I do a quick lap, looking for him everywhere, before sulking to my office to unpack when I don’t find him.Damn,why am I so worked up that he’s not here? He was gone for six years—six—and now he’s back for three days and I’m going out of my mind that he’s late for work. I need to calm down. We have a group meeting in thirty minutes; I’ll see him then. I take a few deep breaths.

I can survive thirty minutes?—

Just kidding.

I can’t.

I try to get some work done but my gaze keeps drifting back to the clock, counting down the minutes until our meeting. And even then, I gather my stuff and head to the meeting room extremely early. I just need to see him, to make sure this hasn’t all been some elaborate dream I concocted.

Finally, people start filing into the room. Clara, then Serge, Ben, then Jason, and lastly, Peter and Mac. I’m still watching the door when Peter starts the meeting and my head whips around to look at him. My eyes are wild, untamed, worried.

I take a deep breath so no panic or surprise creeps into my voice. “Will Warren be joining us?”

Others look around like they hadn’t even realized he wasn’t here, but to me, this room is empty without him.

The corner of Peter’s lips twitch up into the beginnings of a smile that seems to know more than it should. “He’s going to be late today. Some sort of personal issue he had to take care of.”

I nod and smile, but my mind runs through every terrible thing that could’ve happened to him. Is he hurt? Did something happen to one of his parents? Is he okay?

That’s all I care about. I just need him to be okay.

The meeting passes in a blur of voices that I can’t clearly make out because I’m too busy worrying about Warren. I practically run out of the room when we finish and pull out my phone the second I get back to my office.

Me

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