Page 39 of The Seven Year Slip

She blinked a few times. Resetting her brain. “I’m sorry, did you say youmetsomeone? Of your own accord? Has the sky fallen?” she added, perplexed.

I snorted a laugh. “Oh, come on, I can meet people sometimes.”

“Yeah, when Drew and Iforceyou.”

I rolled my eyes. The train pulled into the station, brakes squeaking, and we got up and made our way into the car.

“Have you kissed him? Did you spend the night?” Fiona asked, following me. I made for two empty seats, but a young man in a business suit swooped in before we could take them, and he spread his legs and started playing a game on his phone.

I glared at him.

“Tell meeverything. Is he cute?” Fiona went on, oblivious.

I continued glaring at the man until he finally looked up, a snarl on his lips, and then saw the pregnant woman beside me. And the other passengers giving him judgmental looks. He shoved hisphone into his pocket and closed his legs, and I guided Fiona down into the seat beside him.

“What does he look like?” she asked. “What’s his name?”

“Iwan,” I replied, holding on to the bar above her, “and we just had dinner together... all weekend.”

She fanned herself with her hands, blinking back fake tears. “Oh my god! My little Clementine is finally growing up! You might actually fall inlove!”

I didn’t want to think about it. “Okay, that’s enough.”

“What if you two get married? What if he’s yoursoulmate?” She gasped, leaning toward me. “What’s hislast name?”

“It’s—” I froze. The train jostled on. And I realized, then and there, that I didn’tknowhis last name. “Um...”

She stared at me. “You seriously spent theentireweekend with him and didn’t get his last name?”

Mr.Manspreader beside her smirked, and I shot him another glare. “I’ll get it tonight—oh, this is your stop,” I added.

She genuinely looked like she was about to skip her appointment to badger me some more, but then she decided against it and gathered up her purse. “You have to tell meeverythingtomorrow—including his name,” she said solemnly, but I neither promised nor denied I would as she exited and pointed at me from the platform and mouthed, “I mean it,” as the train pulled away.

I waved her goodbye, knowing there was no way to get out of it, and went to go sit in her spot—but the guy had already spread out again. I scowled and moved toward the door instead, and waited to exit at the Eighty-Sixth Street Station.

I couldn’t believe I didn’t get his last name.

Just a few days ago, if you’d told me that I’d meet a handsome stranger in my aunt’s apartment who’d become a not-so-strange friend (werewe friends? or something else?), I wouldn’t havebelieved you. But now I was wondering what he would cook tonight for dinner, whether he’d gotten the dishwashing job, how his day was. Maybe I could spend weekends at the apartment over the summer learning about the birthmark on his clavicle and the scars on his fingers that kissed one too many knives.

And, maybe by the end of it, I could tell him the secret, that Ididlive in the future. And maybe he’d believe me.

Or—worse yet—Ididend up telling him, and he didn’t believe me, and maybe that’s why he never came looking. Because I couldn’t ignore the seven years between us, the seven years since he’d met me, and where I was now. He never came looking.

At least not that I could remember.

The train pulled into my station, and I climbed out of the subway and got to the Monroe. Earl was at the front desk again, almost done with the James Patterson novel from this morning. He greeted me with a smile, like he always did, and I left for the elevator and rode it up to the fourth floor.

Iwan looked like he had a whimsical last name—something Welsh, maybe? SinceIwanwas Welsh. Or was it a family name? And maybe his last name was boring to counteract it?

I pulled my keys out of my purse, trying to rein in my excitement.

I unlocked the door to B4 and opened the door quickly.

“How about let’s try my aunt’s fettuccine tonight?” I called into the apartment, kicking off my shoes by the door.

I stopped a few feet into the apartment. It was dark and silent.

The kind of silence that made my heart twist painfully. The kind I knew all too well in this place.

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