time someone saw her. In an hour, I plan to break down this door and go inside to see if the doorman perhaps didn’t notice Sara return. Maybe she’s inside her flat and just fell asleep, or maybe something happened. I know I shouldn’t go there, but this reminds me of how I waited for my sister and then gave up and didn’t go looking for her and possibly saving her like I was supposed to. I won’t do that again. I won’t give up.
Why did I wait this long to tell her? Watching and following her for almost a year like a stupid spy—why didn’t I try to see her sooner? If I didn’t make believe that we were together, and instead actually tried to be with her like a man not like a child, then maybe she wouldn’t be somewhere, God knows where, on her own right now. I’m a joke. Everything I’ve planned seems silly and meaningless if something—God bloody forbid—were to happen to her.
My feet throb from the back and forth pacing. My cell is completely lifeless, but Emily and Louis know I’m here and if they have any news, they’ll come find me. I slide down and sit by her door, no longer able to stand. I close my eyes and start to pray again. I pray to anybody who will listen to please help safeguard my Sara from any harm. What if she’s in trouble? What if she’s hurt?
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I hear her voice and almost faint with relief at hearing the best sound in the whole bloody world.
I open my eyes and look up to see my broken ballerina standing close enough for me to finally touch her. I don’t know who heard my prayers, but I am indebted to them for life. I grab hold of her legs like a child and clasp her close to me, kissing her thighs, not caring one bit that I must look like a deranged freak. I will never let go of her; they’ll have to extricate me by force. Thank you, Lord! Thank you for making sure she’s alive and safe and yelling at me.
“Liam! Are you crazy? What are you doing here? Let go of me!”
I don’t bloody care what she says, I love her and she may not know it yet, but she loves me, too. “Say my name again. Fucking Lord, I missed hearing my name come out of your mouth. Say it again!” I demand, because my name sounds like a gift as it comes out of her mouth.
“Why are you here? Please let go of me and tell me what’s going on,” she pleads.
I loosen my hold to look at her, noticing she’s barefoot and looking like she’s been crying. “Where have you been? Are you all right? Did anybody hurt you? Why do you look as if you’ve been crying?”
She shakes her head and tries to create distance between us, which I won’t allow after not touching her for a whole year. “I’m not sure why you’re here, but you should go. I’d like to go in and take a shower; my feet are filthy and I stink. Did you come in person to tell me your good news?” she questions, sounding as cheeky as ever.
“Yes, I have lots of things to tell you,” I say, failing to contain my excitement at finally being close enough to tell Sara, my Sara, all that she means to me.
“That’s very magnanimous of you, but I already know your wonderful news. Congratulations, I wish you both only happiness,” she says without looking at me, and it sounds a bit odd.
“Thank you, I think. And by ‘both’ you mean you wish you and me happiness?” I ask because I’m confused. How can she congratulate us if I haven’t told her my plan or asked for her hand yet? Did Emily spoil my surprise?
“Yes, I wish you happiness and I hope to one day find my happiness as well. Thank you again for coming to tell me in person. Goodnight. See you around,” she says, not at all as excited as I’ve let myself imagine she’d be. “Excuse me,” she adds as she moves past me, still on floor, to open her front door.
She’s about to close the door on me as I jump up and hold it open. “Sara, are we not going to talk about this?” I’m very confused; I don’t understand what’s happening. Why do I