Page 12 of The Girl He Loves
I run to the elevator. Abigail is only one floor up, but I’m in a hurry. When the doors ping open, I see him, the man from upstairs. I still don’t know his name. He’s beautiful, but not quite as sexy as Brian of course. He always shoots me a shy smile when I happen by him in the elevator, and then goes right back to staring at the elevator buttons. The girls think he’s a snob, but I think he’s just an introvert, like me. They’re judging him on the little information they have about him; the fact that he lives in the penthouse upstairs, and that he’s always impeccably dressed. That’s it — we don’t even know the man’s name for crying out loud.
I smile at him again as I exit the elevator. I dash to Abigail’s and when she answers the door, I’m completely flushed.
“Wow, you’re late,” she says, surprised.
I peel off my shoes as she closes the door behind me. “Sorry. I got caught up in my work,” I straight-out lie.
Claudia stands to greet me.
We exchange a quick hug as Abigail serves me my favorite coffee from her fancy Keurig. I take a seat on the sectional, next to Claudia, and study Abigail’s view of the city — it’s identical to mine; the skyline of buildings, the vibrant life of Wicker Park. Occasionally, I’ll stand close to the windows and look down, and study the pedestrians and cars below, the excitement of so many lives intermingling, from the safety and comfort of my own cozy living room.
“Where’s Gretchen?” I ask.
“She had a family thing today,” Abigail tells me.
“So how have you been keeping, Claudia?” Abigail asks as she takes a seat across us. She’s wearing a long tunic over leggings. Her wavy blonde hair falls carelessly but beautifully over her shoulders. She reminds me of Renee, Ava’s mother. I swallow hard, shaking the thought out of my head.
Claudia looks completely deflated. “I’ve been better. I really liked him. Is this what dating is like?”
I’m not really the one to help since I’ve been with Brian forever. Abigail on the other hand, is better equipped — she’s divorced. She smiles kindly. “It’s not easy, especially for women our age.”
Women our age. Are we really that old? We’re all in our mid thirties, still young and vibrant. Although not quite as perky and fresh as teenage girls. I think of Ava again and my stomach goes topsy turvy. I don’t even know if I’ll be able to finish my coffee. No one seems to notice my unease as they’re both so focused on Claudia’s breakup.
Poor Claudia is freshly separated, and looking after Colton, a sweet eleven year-old playful boy. And I know for a fact that she still loves her ex husband. Although she’s never said it out loud, it’s just a matter of reading between the lines. He left her for reasons she never really shared with us. And now, Jake, her new guy, cheats on her, and she finds out on Facebook Messenger.
My heart sinks. I’m suddenly brought back to stumbling on Brian’s browser history. It stung. The pain was sudden and sharp, completely unexpected, as if I were standing on a street corner and a strange little old lady slapped me in the face.
“The key is to not have expectations,” Abigail explains. “Just go with it and try to have fun. Don’t ever expect it to work out. Don’t be in a rush to get attached.”
Her words depress me, and I think they have the same effect on Claudia, who looks like she’s just about ready to spend the rest of her days buried under her bed covers. She’s a beautiful woman; long thick dark hair and caramel skin, with almond shaped brown eyes, delicate chiseled features and an hourglass figure. I want to help her, but I’m at a loss. For a brief moment, I consider confessing my current situation, but I’m not ready to do that yet. I need to further investigate and make sure before.
As soon as I drain my coffee, I rush to leave. “I’m sorry,” I tell them. “I’m swamped today. I need to get back to work. It was nice.”
They both look at me, stunned to see me leave so early. Usually I stick around for a while, and we chat about everything and nothing.
My heart is thumping enthusiastically as I hurry down the stairs. I can’t wait to get back to my laptop.
6
Isettle down at my desk. I don’t need to lock the door because my desk faces the doorway and if anyone makes an appearance, I can just exit my browser window before they reach me.
I resume my ‘investigation’. This is how I’ve come to think of it.
A new post. Apparently they’re all going to Montreal to visit Renee’s family this weekend. Interesting…
When Brian and Trevor go out to pick up a few groceries, I take the opportunity to check his history again. Brian cooks every Thursday and Saturday night — he’s a decent cook. Tonight is wings and pasta. It was one of the things I loved about him when we first met about twenty years ago.
My friend Charlie (a girl I haven’t spoken to in ages) dragged me to some bar to watch an up-and-coming band play. I like music as much as the next gal, but I wasn’t really into it. I’d had a long week — I was stressed about school and had a part-time job at the Gap. Little did I know that my life was about to change.
Brian caught my attention straight away. He was wielding a classic guitar and sitting on a stool, his beautiful mouth pressed against a mic. His brand of music was slow and smooth, classic folk meets pop. He peeked at me from under a fringe of dark hair. He’d shoot me a playful grin here and then. I seemed to be the only one he was paying attention to, and I felt like he was singing directly to me. Every single word in the lyrics of his songs hit me hard. I smiled shyly every time our eyes met. Demure, I let my gaze fall to my sparkly mini skirt and tight-fitting t-shirt. The word OBSESSED was printed across my small chest. It was my way of laughing at myself. I had fully come to terms with my OCD and my strange idiosyncrasies.
“I think the lead singer likes you,” Charlie said to me after the show was done. “We should stick around.”
I smiled. Never one to stay out too long, I was completely on board. I wanted to meet Brian, get a closer look.
Charlie knew the keyboard player so it was easy to sneak in backstage.
“Hey, I’m Brian,” he said sweetly, and as soon as we shook hands, I was a goner. I didn’t say a thing, completely lost in his stunning green eyes, framed by the most amazing dark lashes and brows.
