heard from someone that you were seeing someone in the building. That girl who lives across from you—I don’t know her name . . .”
“Audrey?”
“Yeah, that might be it.”
Corbin took a long pull at his Smuttynose beer, a thin line of foam clinging to his upper lip. “I barely know her. Why? Who’d you hear that from?”
“I must have dreamt it, I guess. Or seen you two together.”
“Nah, man. I really don’t know her. I’ve seen her, and wouldn’t mind knowing her, but nah. How ’bout you? Your girlfriend moved out, didn’t she?”
Alan gave Corbin the short-story version of his breakup with Quinn and his plans to either find a new place soon or get a housemate to split the rent. They each finished their beer. The busy bartender swung past, asking them if they wanted another. Alan, not done interrogating Corbin about his love life, was about to say yes when Corbin jumped in and said he had to take off. “Sorry. I’ve got somewhere to be, unfortunately. Let’s do this again, though,” he said, unconvincingly.
Corbin left, but Alan stayed, ordering a rye and ginger ale, and wondering why Corbin would deny knowing Audrey. It didn’t make any sense. Even if they were trying to keep the relationship a secret for some reason, why would it matter if Alan knew about it?
When Alan returned to his apartment from the Sevens, he went straight to the window. Audrey’s apartment was dark.
But the following night she was there, on her couch, reading a Vanity Fair and occasionally checking her phone. She seemed jittery, twisting a strand of her short hair around a finger.
Alan went to make himself a drink, something he had learned to do in complete darkness, and when he returned, Corbin was now in Audrey’s apartment. They stood talking near her door, and Alan thought it looked like an impromptu visit. There was no bottle of wine, and Audrey was dressed in the black tights and oversized hoodie that she often wore when she was alone. Alan stood back a little from the window, even though he knew there was no way he could be seen. He watched them talking and knew that something was up. Corbin swung his head in the direction of Audrey’s window, and Audrey’s gaze followed, a frown creasing her face.
Both of them were staring directly across in Alan’s direction.
Alan turned cold. He took another step backward. His binoculars were on the end table next to the couch, and he went and got them, continuing to watch from deep within his apartment.
Corbin and Audrey talked some more. At one point, Audrey shrugged, a smile on her face. Then Alan watched, his skin flushed, as Corbin crossed Audrey’s living room and pulled her curtains all the way closed.
Alan lowered the binoculars. He hadn’t been spotted, but it was just as bad. He’d been figured out. Corbin had realized that the only way Alan would know that he and Audrey were seeing each other was if Alan had been spying from across the way. Had it occurred to him immediately after the drink? Had he returned to the apartment, checked to see where Alan lived, the location of the apartment, and then realized that it was the exact mirror apartment from across the courtyard? Alan felt physically sick, his stomach clenching. For a brief, horrible moment he wondered if Corbin, and maybe Corbin and Audrey, would come over to his apartment to confront him. He instinctively pushed the binoculars down between the sofa’s cushions. The lights were out. He wouldn’t have to answer the door.
Then Alan told himself to relax, to take a deep breath, to begin to analyze the situation. Even if Corbin had figured out that they’d been spotted through the window, it didn’t necessarily mean that they knew that Alan had been obsessively spying on Audrey. What if Corbin did confront him about it? All Alan would have to say would be something casual, like Oh yeah, maybe that’s where I saw you two together. Audrey never pulls her curtains all the way shut. That thought relaxed him, and he stood again, walked toward the window to look through it. Audrey’s curtains were still pulled shut.
Over the next few months, Alan gave up on the fantasy that he could somehow meet Audrey in the flesh. He knew it would never happen. He also knew that if it did, Audrey would recognize him as the creep from the other side of the building, the one