Page 109 of Chaos Theory
I sit on a low red velvet couch and watch him go to his suitcase. He comes back with a shoe box, plonks it on the table in front of me. He sits beside me.
‘Open it,’ he says.
I take the lid off. Inside is a single white Converse shoe. I hold it up and rotate it. I look among the tissue papers in the box for the other shoe, but it’s not there.
‘What’s this?’
‘To replace the one you lost,’ he says. ‘The one you left behind. In Chicago.’
I make a sound that could be a laugh or a cry.
‘This is…’ I begin, but I can’t finish the sentence.
There have been so many goodbyes. So many beginnings and endings, so few middles.
He returns to his suitcase and comes back to me with another shoe. He puts it on the table.
‘Obviously I had to buy the pair. I’m not going to give you just one shoe. But it’s, you know, symbolic or whatever.’
I stare at the shoe. ‘This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten. Thank you. When did you buy them?’
‘I got them after our road trip. I couldn’t find the right time to give them to you though. I did think about doing it that night you came to my house to tell me about your insane Kobi-rescue plan, but I thought it might make you more upset. I’m very glad, by the way, that we don’t have to go through with your no-contact plan now.’
‘Me too,’ I say. ‘I know it must have sounded crazy. Thanks for going along with it all the same.’
‘Maeve, I’d do anything for you. You must know that. You must have known I always liked you.’
‘But we were so casual.’
‘That wasyourchoice. I went along with it so as not to spook you. You were like a beautiful, skittish horse that might bolt at any minute. I hoped that eventually you’d…’
‘Want astablerelationship?’ I can’t help myself.
We both start laughing.
‘Kind of,’ he says eventually. ‘I just want to be around you all the time.’
I climb into his lap. I nuzzle into his neck, like the beautiful wild thing that I am. ‘I’m not going anywhere,’ I say.
He kisses me.
‘Good. Let’s not go anywhere together.’
I kiss him back, then point across the room.
‘Except maybe to that bed over there.’
He scoops me up and carries me over to the bridal bed. I think about making a joke about bridles or riding, but instead I focus on his face, his eyes on mine, my hands clasped around his neck.
I won’t ruin the moment.
SIXTY-TWO
KOBI
Three months later
Saturday, 0800
