"I'm just glad you're coming! We're going to have a great time."
We agreed to talk the next day and hung up.
In the interim, Gideon set his briefcase down and tossed his jacket over the arm of one of the gilded chairs flanking the ends of the glass coffee table.
"How long have you been here?" he asked, yanking the knot of his tie loose.
I stood.
My palms grew damp at the thought that he might kick me out.
"Not long."
"Have you eaten?" I shook my head.
I hadn't been able to eat much all day.
I'd gotten through the session with Parker courtesy of a protein drink I'd picked up during my lunch hour.
"Order something."
He walked past me toward the hallway.
"Menus are in the kitchen drawer by the fridge.
I'm going to grab a quick shower."
"Do you want something?" I asked his retreating back.
He didn't stop or look at me.
"Yes.
I haven't eaten, either."
I'd finally settled upon a local deli boasting organic tomato soup and fresh baguettes - figuring my stomach could maybe handle that - when my phone rang again.
"Hey, Cary," I answered, wishing I were home with him and not about to face a painful breakup.
"Hey, Cross was just here looking for you.
I told him to go to hell and stay there."
"Cary."
I sighed.
I couldn't blame him; I'd do the same thing for him.
"Thanks for letting me know."
"Where are you?" "At his place, waiting for him.
He just showed.
I'll probably be home sooner rather than later."
"You kicking him to the curb?" "I think that's on his agenda."
He exhaled audibly.
"I know it's not what you're ready for, but it's for the best.
You should call Dr.
Travis ASAP.
Talk it out with him.
He'll help you put things in perspective."
I had to swallow past the lump in my throat.
"I'm - Yeah.
Maybe."
"You okay?" "Ending it face-to-face has dignity, at least.
That's something."
My phone was pulled from my hand.
Gideon held my gaze as he said, "Good-bye, Cary," then powered off my phone and set it on the counter.
His hair was damp and he wore black pajama bottoms that hung low on his hips.
The sight of him hit me hard, reminding me of all that I stood to lose when I lost him - the breathless anticipation and desire, the comfort and intimacy, the ephemeral sense of rightness that made everything worthwhile.
"Who's the date?" he asked.
"Huh? Oh.
Shawna - Mark's sister- in-law - has concert tickets for Friday."
"Have you figured out what you want to eat?" I nodded, tugging at the thigh- length hem of my shirt because I felt self-conscious.
"Get me a glass of whatever you're drinking."
He reached around me and picked up the menu I'd set out on the counter.
"I'll order.
What do you want?" It was a relief to move over to the cabinet that held the wineglasses.
"Soup.
Crusty bread."
As I tugged the cork out of the bottle of merlot I had left on the counter, I heard him call the deli and speak in that firm, raspy voice of his that I loved from the moment I'd first heard it.
He ordered tomato soup and chicken noodle, which caused a painful tightness in my chest.
Without being told, he'd ordered what I wanted.
It was another of the many serendipitous things that always made me feel like we were destined to end up in the same place, together, if only we could make it that far.
I passed him the glass I'd poured for him and watched as he took a drink.
He looked tired, and I wondered if he'd stayed up all night like I had.
Lowering the glass, he licked the lingering trace of wine off his lips.
"I went to your place looking for you.
I expect Cary told you."
I rubbed at the painful ache in my chest.
"I'm sorry .
about this and - " I gestured at what I was wearing.
"Damn it.
I didn't plan this well."
He leaned back into the counter and crossed one ankle over the other.
"Go on."
"I figured you'd be home.
I should've called first.
When you weren't here, I should have just waited for another time instead of making myself at home."
I rubbed at my stinging eyes.
"I'm .
confused about what's going on.
I'm not thinking straight."
His chest expanded on a deep breath.
"If you're waiting for me to break up with you, you can stop waiting."
I grabbed onto the kitchen island to steady myself.
That's it? That's the end? "I can't do it," he said flatly.
"I can't even say I'll let you walk, if that's why you're here."