Her stepfather smiled, and asked, “Are you ready to go, honey?”
“I am. Thank you so much for having us. Dinner was lovely,” she said, the robotic response programmed when she was young.
Her parents got into the car and then she got in. When the door shut, she glanced up and saw Taylor, her Hazel, watching her through the tall window. She couldn’t see his eyes, but she could feel the heat of his gaze on her. A fire started in her heart, an attraction that would burn them both. The car drove away and she started breathing again.
Her mother patted her hand. “You did good, honey. You did good.”
As the buildings rolled by outside, one after the other, she replied, “Thank you.”
Back in the library, Clara ran her hand up Taylor’s back, and over his shoulders, squeezing his muscles. “Come with me.”
“Have you no dignity?” he asked and jerked out of her hold. Walking to the door, he took his coat from the rack and opened the door. Letting the cold air hit him, he walked down the steps to the sidewalk, leaving the front door wide open. He put his coat on and headed for the corner where he hailed a cab.
Shortly after, Taylor entered his apartment and poured himself another drink before removing his coat. He didn’t even bother with ice this time. The warm liquid coated his insides, fanning the flame that burned inside his chest. Boehler. Brewster. Renee. Judith. Boehler. He set the empty glass down on the bar and took his coat and suit jacket off.
He fell onto the bed and kicked off his shoes. His pants followed and he lay on his back in his shirt still buttoned and his tie still in its Windsor knot. He lay there alone, fucking alone again. He missed the unpredictable girl he met weeks earlier.
Boehler. Boehler. Boehler.
Judith. Judith. Jude.
He missed her.
And he wanted her back.
Reaching down into his pants pocket, he pulled his phone out, and flipped to his photos. He regarded the photo he took of her when she hadn’t been looking. It was the saddest picture he had ever seen. Jude was listening, looking at Clara at dinner. But her eyes held no life, no energy, not the girl he’d met at his parents’ party. She looked like no one at all. Not even Judith. She was empty.
All night he fought against exposing them to the others, revealing that not only did he know her, but that he might have real feelings for her. But when they were apart, something happened to her, something distressing, something destructive.
But what?
PRIVILEGES WERE EARNED.
Like a child, Jude earned back her freedom half hour by half hour. After an acceptable day, she was rewarded thirty minutes to leave on her own. Two days after that, an hour. She waited, counting the days, until she had earned two full hours. It took seven days, but that’s what it would take to get there and back in time.
The second Monday after she had last seen Hazel, she sat at a deli across from his apartment building. She only had fifty minutes left to risk. Traffic was too unpredictable and she didn’t dare be late.
The first day she had spied on him, she made it back home with ten minutes to spare. She only wished her heart had been spared in the process. She didn’t know why she chose to sit and wait opposed to knocking on his door. Maybe she only needed to see him happy—happy without her—so she could walk away once and for all. She could take their week together and pocket it like she pocketed all the things that mattered most to her. Like her brother. She had thought the hole her brother had left in her heart was healing, but it throbbed without Hazel, a constant reminder of the gaping wound.
On the third day, she figured out why she hadn’t been able to go to his apartment. She knew she had to stay as far from his apartment as she could. Her favorite memories resided there. And if she were brave enough to talk to him again, it would have to be in neutral territory. By the following Sunday she was in full stalking mode, determined. But it was Sunday and by the time she arrived, she didn’t know if he had already left his apartment or if he would leave.
Another hot chocolate was ordered and she sat on a barstool facing the street. When he appeared, coming out of his apartment building, she spilled her drink just as she took a sip. Just seeing him again sent a thrill through her body. The last time she’d been dealing with the effects of mind-numbing drugs. In hindsight, she wished they would’ve worked on her heart instead.
Jumping up, she threw the cup away and ran outside. She only had five minutes. Five minutes left before she had to leave for home, so she ran across the street, jaywalking, and almost getting hit by a cab.
The honking of the car didn’t faze Taylor. It was Manhattan and honking horns were a part of the melody here. He shoved his hands into his pockets and kept walking. Until…
“Hazel! Wait!”
He’d been hurt. There was no sense in hiding it anymore. He never believed his own lie anyway. But hearing that name stung, deep. He didn’t want to assume, but when he heard it again, and again, he couldn’t stop himself from turning around. His mouth opened in surprise as he saw Jude running toward him, arms flailing, causing a complete scene.
And he smiled.
She stopped just short of him, out of breath, and bending over at the waist to recover.
He said, “You’re here.”
Looking up at him, she looked relieved. “I am. For you.”
“Why?”
“Because I owe you an apology. I’m sorry. You deserved better than I gave you.”
Seeing her now, he struggled to be mad, and considered the good times they’d shared. “You gave me everything I needed.”
She shook her head. “I mean at that dinner.” Finally in control of her breathing again, she stood up straight. “I hated that you saw me that way, but it happened. I just need a few minutes to explain.” She checked the time on her watch. One minute left. “But I can’t today. Maybe another time?”
“Why? Why not now?”
“I have to go.”
“No!”
His anger and pain vibrated though her, her heart still tethered to the man before her. “This is not what I wante—”
Stepping closer, he almost touched her to see if she was real. “What do you want, Jude?”
“I want you to live a gloriously happy life. And that can’t be with me.”
Only the tips of his fingers touched her coat, but the sensation spread throughout her whole body. He whispered, “One week wasn’t enough.”
“One week is all we have.” She backed away, needing to leave, but not wanting to leave him again. She has to fight her instincts, to protect herself from what will happen if she doesn’t. “Maybe we shouldn’t meet again. I don’t want to hurt you any more than I have.”
“I’ll meet you. Just say when, Jude. I’ll do it. I’ll take what I can.”
She understood his desperation. She felt that for him, but she had no idea until just then how much he felt for her. She couldn’t refuse him, just like she couldn’t refuse herself this one last taste, this one last time with him. He’ll hate her soon enough. She would savor any time she could get. “Tomorrow? I can meet you between eleven and two.”
“I have two meetings tomorrow. Can you come over tomorrow night? We can make dinner and talk.”
“No,” she said, “I can’t.” Flustered, she started walking backward. “I have to go, but soon.”
He stepped forward. “Don’t leave. We can talk now.”
Holding up her arm and touching her watch, she tried to explain, “I can’t right now. I’m sorry. Soon.”
“I’m going to hold you to that, Jude Boehler. I’ve got your name and number now.” He smiled so innocently, but Jude’s blood iced in her veins.
“No!” She stopped suddenly, in the middle of the sidewalk and went back to him. “You can’t come for me. Promise me you won’t come over.”