Page 124 of The Storm

“Is this what happens when you go through a harrowing, life-threatening ordeal?”

He laughs. “Apparently.”

We order another round of drinks and catch up. He tells me about random, everyday things, and I get to kick back and forget myself in the details of somebody else’s life. Adrian has a large family. Dylan has known all of them since he was a kid, andthey’ve pretty much adopted him at this point, so he has plenty of things going on in his life to tell me about.

I try to absorb every word and at the same time not get stuck in the past, when things were different, and I wasn’tthis. The life of the party, always alone in a crowded room.

Fuck’s sake, I’m mopey today.

By the time we exit the bar, it’s gotten dark, it’s late, and I’m slightly buzzed.

Adrian is standing outside on the street, leaning against the side of his car, watching Dylan approach with a soft smile on his face. Dylan walks straight into his arms. Adrian murmurs something I can’t hear, and Dylan laughs. Cuddled against Adrian’s side, he turns his head to look at me. Adrian lifts his chin in greeting. He doesn’t love having me in his life, but he’s putting in a lot of effort to get over the fact that I’ve seen his boyfriend naked.

“Do you want a ride?” Dylan asks.

I shake my head. “My apartment’s not that far away.”

We wave our goodbyes.

I’ve only walked a few blocks when the skies suddenly open up, and rain starts to pour down. I swear under my breath and yank the collar higher around my neck before breaking into a run toward Haymarket Station.

By the time I make it underground, my sweatshirt is soaked and rainwater is running down my back from my hair.

The platform is packed with damp, miserable-looking people trying to escape the weather. A train screeches into the station a minute later, and I step inside after everybody else.

Just as the doors close, I rake my fingers through my hair and turn around.

I don’t know what makes me look up. A movement outside on the otherwise empty platform. Just a random coincidence.

There’s a man standing there, frozen in place almost in mid-step.

His lips are slightly parted, his dark eyes wide and so painfully familiar.

It’s like getting punched in the lungs.

I blink, and I expect him to disappear. He can’t be here. He’s notsupposedto be here. Last I heard he was still in Chicago. It was an overheard comment from a year and a half ago, but that doesn’t change the facts.

He’s not supposed to be here.

All the noise becomes a muted buzz in my ears, leaving only the shaky sound of my own breathing.

The train jolts and starts to move.

It doesn’t take more than a blink, and then he’s gone.

And I’m left with a pounding heart and questions flying through my head.

Was that really him?

How?

THIRTY-NINE

NICK

It’s beensix years since I last saw him.

I don’t have to ask myself if I was seeing things or do that whole was it really him?thing.