Page 78 of It's Complicated

The minutes trickle by and still, Aiden doesn’t come out. Are they together right now? Finally unleashing years of unrequited passion?

No, he wouldn’t. Aiden is a decent man—contrary to me. If he wanted to be with Lori, he’d break it off with Kirsten first. I know him.

I keep my eyes glued to the door, willing him to come out. The city around me is silent with an indifference that befits a night like this one. The cold makes me shiver. A splitting headache is building at my temples. I haven’t eaten and I’m running on an empty stomach and vodka fumes. All I want is to lie down and sleep… to sleep and forget everything.

I try to move, to go back home, but I can’t. Maybe I’m frozen stiff. The blood has frozen in my veins, and I’m paralyzed.

I don’t know how long I stand hiding in the shadows of the streetlight. The perfect lurking spot. If she comes to the door, she won’t be able to see me.

The cold doesn’t seem to get any worse. Maybe it’s not the cold at all, maybe it’s my own heart. I’m so numb I can’t tell the difference.

The door to her house finally opens, and Aiden steps out. I lean further into the shadows as I watch them.

Aiden is talking, his face serious, committed. I can’t hear what he’s saying, but he sure looks like a lover promising to go home to dump his fiancée. Lori is saying something back, but Aiden silences her, pressing a finger on her mouth.

The gesture makes my blood sizzle. It’s too intimate, too familiar for any old friends. He shouldn’t touch her like that…

Aiden and Lori aren’t just friends. They’re more. I clench my hands into fists but stay put in my shadowy corner.

Aiden removes the finger from her lips and she says something, then he bends down to kiss her. From the distance, I can’t tell where he’s kissing her. On the lips or on the cheek? I can only sigh with relief that the kiss is brief. At least until Lori reaches a hand up to cup his cheek. He leans into the touch and then kisses her hand.

Not that I needed any more proof of their new status, but it still hurts worse than I could ever imagine.

Then he finally leaves.

I don’t follow his progress across the street. My eyes stay glued to Lori, to the doting expression on her face as she watches him go.

That’s the face of a woman in love. Only not with me.

It’s never been about me.

32

LORI

By the time I get to Jace’s building, it’s already past midnight. I wanted to take a shower, get dressed, and leave the house. But then, as I blow-dried my hair in front of the mirror, I told myself, well, if I’m about to live my big romantic moment, I might as well do it in style and give my hair a shape. Makeup came next. And then a wardrobe crisis.

How do you choose a dress for a you’re-the-love-of-my-life declaration?

In the end, I opted for a sensible, winter-in-Chicago black wool skirt, a long-sleeved dark green sweater, and black calf-high boots. I hope Jace will like the outfit. Or even better, hate it and rip it off me.

The guest parking spots in the garage are taken, so I search for street parking, and finally get out of the car, pulling the faux fur-lined hood of my jacket over my head against the icy night wind.

With my coat zipped up to my chin, my heels click loudly against the concrete as I cross the street.

I take a deep breath before pushing open the door to his building.

“Good evening, Dr. Archibald,” the night doorman greets me.

“Night, Denzel, could you tell Dr. Barlow I’m here to see him?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Dr. Barlow left a while ago and hasn’t come back yet.”

My bright smile falters and I lose most of my momentum. Frazzled nerves take over. Already, coming here, wearing my heart on my sleeve, hasn’t been easy, but having to wait after all the anticipation is nerve-wracking.

“Are you sure he’s gone, ’cause I saw his car in the garage.”

“Yes, Dr. Barlow left on foot.”

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