The feeling of relief that comes over him then is enough to make him lose the ability to stand on his own. He leans on the counter like he’s just relaxing. And she’s standing there, really standing there in front of the refrigerator, looking for a fresh bottle of water.
This happens sometime after 2:30 and he hasn’t seen her in a week.
He laughs, because he really feels like he might want to cry and so he needs to cover up if he’s going to make a strange noise. But it comes out sounding natural and he’s glad for that.
For the entire week, he’d had this image in his head of her with snow in her hair and on her shoulders. It was enough to get him by, but just barely. And he’d still found himself taking a minute in his car both before and after work to just try and breathe properly. In and out. Like he had to practice it without her there to remind him. He’d also taken several minutes to chide himself, because it was really so ridiculous that he felt this way.
She removes her head from the refrigerator, her eyes gleaming as she’s found an unopened water bottle that is actually cold. She looks at him strangely. “What?”
He’s staring at her, he realizes. Staring at her with a look that’s surely giving him away. Betraying that this moment is sort of saving his life right now and that he just wants to stand here with her in the room for a little while longer.
“Oh, nothing,” he says, shaking his head and turning around like there’s something that needs to be done on the counter. There isn’t and he fumbles around awkwardly with the coffee mugs lined up there. He feels idiotic so he turns back around and smiles, says, “How are you?”
“Good. Having Michael up there at your desk is…well, I’m sure you can imagine.”
They both laugh and his brain needs oxygen.
She turns to leave, her hand on the door, but she hesitates there and turns back around. She doesn’t say anything, just looks at him expectantly.
He doesn’t know what she wants him to say or what she thinks he’s going to say, so he says the only thing he can think to say, “I missed you.”
She smiles. He watches it take over her entire face. She says, “Yeah, I missed you, too. Not this place, God no, but I did miss you.”
She looks at him for a second before nodding her head and going back to her desk.
The blinds clatter against the window as it closes and he lets out a breath, sinking into the nearest chair.
Because I missed you, too isn’t any declaration of love, but it’s close enough for now.
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© 2006-2023 More Than That | Skin created by Kali
© 2006-2023 More Than That | Skin created by Kali