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She spots me in the corner. It’s just the two of us in here, and she stops short just inside the doors that close behind her. We are completely alone now as the elevator begins its climb.
“Hey,” I say softly, knowing there’s a better first word to say to her after everything.
“Hey,” she replies.
“How have you been?”
“Fine, thanks.”
She looks down at her feet and fiddles with her fingers. I can tell she’s nervous. This is an awkward situation, but one I have been hoping would happen. The floors of the elevator keep dinging by and I know I’m running out of time in this small moment I have with her. I feel frantic as I see we only have ten more floors to go.
“Do you think we can talk?” I say quickly, the words rushing out of me before I can stop to rethink them.
“Now?” she asks, looking up.
“If you can…” I shrug.
She chews on the inside of her cheek, her perfect lips pulling to the side and all I want to do is pull her in for a kiss because I’ve missed her. I’ve missed her like hell. It doesn’t matter how angry I was, the hold she has on me is deep and I can’t seem to untangle myself from the invisible fingers she has wrapped around me.
“Please,” I say softly.
She looks at me, considering it. The elevator dings and the doors open to our floor. My time is up. I just need to know if she will give me more of it. We step out of the elevators and to my surprise she falls in step with me, passing her department, and walking into my office. I close the door behind us and sit down behind my desk. She takes the seat across from me.
The last time she was in here I told her I wished I never met her, along with some other choice words that I regret. Words that made her cry. Again. I’ve gotten into the horrible habit of making this beautiful woman cry, and I hate myself for it. Despite what she did, I hate myself.
“Did you get the flowers?” I ask, knowing the answer because of the signed delivery.
She nods.
“And the card…?” I think maybe it slipped out somewhere in the delivery.
She nods again.
I wonder if she’s going to say anything at all. I feel like an idiot asking her these questions and getting the bare minimum. We sit in silence for a little while.
“Why did you do it?” she asks.
“Do what?”
“The flowers. The apology. Why?” Her eyes narrow in on me.
I feel confused, like my intention wasn’t clear.
“Because I’m sorry, Erica. I really am. I’m so sorry for everything. I reacted poorly when I found out about…”
“Josie,” she murmurs.
“Yes. Josie.” I nod.
“I was so hurt. So angry. I said things I didn’t mean…”
“I can’t blame you for it,” she says. “What I did…What I kept from you…”
“I’m sure you had your reasons,” I say, trying to be understanding, even though I still have so many questions. I don’t want to push her too hard. I don’t want to push her away.
She tucks a piece of her dark hair behind her ear nervously. It feels so different from how it used to be. I miss her, and she’s right in front of me. Seeing her now, I want her back in my life. I want to tell her that, but I don’t. Instead, I ask her something else.
“Can I see her?” I ask, looking at her expectantly.