Third Life - Noelle Adams Page 0,75

I’m watching closely, I see his shoulders shake a couple of times. Then he brushes off whatever he’s feeling and quickly prepares the drink.

I’m stepping up to the counter now, realizing there’s a long line behind me and I have absolutely no idea what to order. I never do this. I always have my order prepared in my mind well before I need to recite it because I hate the pressure of quick decisions.

Since I’ve been too distracted to even glance at the drinks written out on the chalkboards on the wall, I ask for the Americano. That’s what the woman in front of me mentioned, and it sounds as good as anything else.

I’m paying as Richard hands off the drink he was working on. He comes to the cash register as soon as he does. “Hey,” he says, giving me a quick, almost self-conscious look.

“Hi.”

“I’m glad you came.”

I nod. “Me too.” I want to say more. I want to say something. But I’m acutely aware of the young woman’s curious eyes on us and the long line waiting for their coffee.

“Do you want to... talk?” It’s a real question. He clearly has absolutely no idea what it means that I’ve shown up here.

Neither do I, if you want to know the truth. I nod in response. “But if you’re busy, it doesn’t have to be now.”

“Give me a couple of minutes. I’ll switch out with someone.”

“Okay. Take your time.” I move to the far end of the counter, much to the relief of the impatient man behind me.

Richard gestures toward someone cleaning tables in the corner of the store, and after he’s fixed my drink, he comes out from behind the counter and lets the young man replace him.

He stands in front of me and hands me the drink like it’s a gift.

I take a sip and smile at him. “It’s good.” It feels like people are watching us, but it could very well be my imagination.

“Thank you.” He glances toward a back hallway. “We can talk in the office if you want. It might be quieter there. Or we can stay out here if you’d rather.”

“The office is fine.” I hold my drink with both hands as we head back. It’s warm, comforting, and I need it. I’m nervous now. I have no idea what’s going to happen even though I suppose I’m the one in control here.

It doesn’t feel like I’m in control. At all.

The office is small and neat and almost homey with a love seat squeezed against one wall and a computer desk against the opposite one. He gestures toward the love seat, so I sit there. Instead of fitting himself beside me where we’d be way too close, he pulls the desk chair over and sits on that.

When he ends up much higher than I am, he frowns and leans down to pull the lever to lower the chair seat to closer to the height of the love seat.

He nods as if that is better. His long legs are bent up slightly awkwardly, and as he tries to adjust them, the chair starts to roll on the hardwood floor. “Damn it,” he mutters.

I giggle. Then I can’t stop giggling at his slightly aggrieved face.

Then I cry a little bit. Just because I can’t help it.

“Shit, Gillian,” he murmurs, moving his chair back into place. “I’m so sorry. This isn’t how I imagined this going.”

I’m suddenly afraid he’s misunderstood, that he’s hoping for more than I can give him. So I lean forward and say urgently, “Richard, I really don’t know why I’m here. I mean, I’m not here to... I can’t...”

“My God, baby, not for a single second did I imagine your being here means everything is magically okay. I know it’s not. I know it might never be. That’s not why I’m happy to see you. I’m just...” He lowers his eyes and then raises them again. “I’m just happy to see you.”

I swallow over a lump and brush away a stray tear. “Okay. I’m happy to see you too. I wanted to see you. Things were starting to feel... not the way I wanted them to feel. But I don’t know...”

“You don’t have to know. You don’t have to know anything. I’m not expecting anything from you. I was just glad you didn’t return my letters. I’m assuming since you’re here you’ve been... reading them?” His voice lifts slightly at the end, making it a question.

I nod. “I read them all. I