"Xander," I said and sighed sadly not knowing what else to say.
His phone suddenly dinged, indicating a text. Xander shook his head as if to bring himself to the here and now and glanced down at it. "He's home," he said.
"Already?" I asked, looking at the clock on my mom's mantle. It'd only been two hours since we'd left the gallery.
"I'm surprised he lasted that long," Xander said, standing. "Come on, I'll drive you." He took me in a hug and said softly, "I'm so damn glad to have you back, Eden." His voice was choked with emotion. I hugged him back tightly.
Despite my mother's hand wringing, I got back into Xander's truck and hugged him again when he dropped me off in front of Calder's building, waiting until he saw me enter the main doors. I waited for the elevator for a minute, my mind reeling. I didn't know if Calder was off limits because of Madison, but I desperately needed to be in his arms. I needed him. But had he found a way to do as Xander encouraged? Had he moved on? When the elevator didn't immediately come, I ran up all fifteen flights of stairs.
CHAPTER FIVE
Calder
The apartment was dark. I sat in the only chair I had in the place, a small wooden one that had been left in a closet by the previous tenant. There was a wild hum in my blood and my fists clenched and unclenched on my thighs. I'd gotten a hold of my emotions just enough to make it through two hours of the gallery event, every minute an exercise in pure mind over matter. My body was tensed to run across the city to Eden. She was alive. My beautiful morning glory was alive. My thoughts spun around me. I breathed out a harsh exhale as a mixture of astonishment and euphoria slammed into me for the hundredth time in the last couple hours. My skin felt clammy and I couldn't seem to catch my breath. I thought I might be in a little bit of shock.
A light knock came at my door and I bolted out of the chair and flung it open. I gasped out a sound of desperation as I pulled Eden into my arms and we stood there together in my doorway holding each other again and just breathing, hers harsh and rapid as if she'd just run here. I didn't even know how long we stood there, but after a while, Eden pulled away and smiled a small, sad smile up at me, her breathing normal again.
"Your show. Were you okay?"
I nodded and led her inside, closing the door behind us. She dropped her purse on the floor next to the door. "Actually, no, not really." I scratched the back of my neck. "Watching you walk away from me . . . that was ridiculous, Eden. I should have cancelled it. Really," I let out a small, humorless laugh, "it was ridiculous."
She breathed out and shook her head. "The timing was just . . ." She shook her head again.
"Yeah, I know." My words came out in a rush.
We stood there in the dim glow of the city lights coming in through the large windows, just looking at each other. She was so unbelievably beautiful.
"Do you have lights?" she asked after a minute tilting her head and looking around the barely lit room.
I shook my head. "No, not yet. I got a rental deal on this place from a guy I work with. I've been fixing it up in exchange for low rent and no application process . . . the whole ID thing." I massaged the back of my neck. "I don't have the wiring done yet."
She nodded, her eyes moving around the large, open floor plan.
"I didn’t ask Xander where he lives."
"He lives about ten minutes from here in his own apartment. I asked him to share this place, but he thought it was time for us to get some space."
She nodded again. We were both quiet for a minute.
"Eden . . ."
She licked her lips and opened them as if she was going to say something, but then closed them, furrowing her brow. Then her face crumpled and she heaved in a big, shaky breath. "This is . . ." she let out a small sob, "strange, and it hurts. It's like we . . . and you have a . . . you have a . . ." Her shoulders shook in silent sobs.
At the sight of her tears, pain hit me in the gut, so intense it was actually physical and I jolted slightly, taking a step toward her and pulling her body into mine. "I'm so sorry. So sorry," I kept repeating.
I felt her shaking her head at my chest. "No, no, you thought I was dead, I know. You were trying to move on with your life, I know."
"No," I said loudly and then closed my eyes briefly. "No," I repeated. "I hadn't moved on, Eden. I'd have never moved on. Not ever. I just . . . I don't even know. I wasn't trying to move on, I was just trying to survive. I'm so damn sorry."
We stood there in the darkness, holding each other, moving our hands down each other's bodies as if trying to convince ourselves the other was real, not just a ghost or a dreamy apparition, a figment of our grief-filled imaginations.