Page 33 of The Last Good Man

I give him a forced smile.

We’ve debated that for a few good minutes.

He wanted to give me a ride home.

I said no.

Then he suggested the black limo and his driver.

I said no to that as well.

At last, he wanted a cab, which wasn’t an option either.

I didn’t want to be tailgated.

Although it’s not that hard to find my home address, especially when they have my phone number.

That man has my full name by now, I suppose.

“I’ll be fine. Thank you so much for everything,” I say before leaving a kiss onhischeek and walking out of his place.

A long sigh of relief peels off my lips when the door closes behind me.

What a night.

Still mulling over what happened, Itake the stairs downand stop in front of Thomas’ place.

It no longer rains, and the temperature has dropped significantly, a cold wind swirling around my ankles.

Looking up, I notice a handful of stars across a clear patch of sky.

It must be late, yet I’m in no hurry to get home or even check the time on my phone, which is not even on.

Pivoting a little, I look up at the building and catch the moment when Thomas dims the lights in the bedroom before a light glows in his home office.

I feel the same, although working would do nothing for me now.

Turning the page, Imove myfocus away from him and check the street.

Cars line both sides of the road, and most windows are dark, except for the lights of the TVs and computer screens flickering from time to time.

This corner of Manhattan is perfect in its silence, as it’s supposed to be. There are no signs of racing cars or rowdy people, and no vehicles are down the road.

The first intersection, which isnot farfrom where I stand, barely registers any traffic.

Tucking my clutch under my arm, I pop my collar and walk.

My heels play a quiet rhythmic song against the pavement.

Click, click, click.

I make it to the first block.

Still… No car has moved past me.

And then two cop cars race down the street, lights flashing and sirens blaring, briefly tearing into the silent night before vanishing around the corner.

I continue my night walk, relishing the crisp air while looking forward to a weekend spent in the beautiful bed and breakfast inn in a historical house north of Hartford, Connecticut.

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