Page 74 of In Love and War
“I’m sorry to bother you so late in the day, but one of our doormen has brought to our attention that the vehicle that dropped you off earlier today has been parked in front of the building for several hours now. There is a gentleman currently in the vehicle, and Richard did note that you seemed upset when you left the car… As you know, we are fully committed to ensuring the safety of our residents and would like to make sure that you are okay and fully aware of the situation. Would we… have any reason to call the authorities or ask him to leave?”
What?
My mouth was hanging open as my head moved from the dark sky outside of my window to the clock on my wall. Three hours. He’s dropped me off three hours ago.
“Ma’am? Should we call the police?”
“No!” I exclaimed, louder than was necessary. I cleared my throat and tried again. “I mean, no, it’s fine. I’ll take care of it. Thank you for letting me know.”
“Alright, thank you, Miss Bloom. We’re here if you need us.”
I hung up and was off the couch, slippers on, and out the door in less than fifteen seconds.
22
Iran outside, almost tripping on the carpet in front of the revolving doors.
Old-fashioned black streetlamps illuminated the street in front of my building and all of the cars that lined it, their light reflecting off the wet pavement. The rain had turned into a soft drizzle only within the last fifteen minutes or so, and the air felt quite a few degrees cooler than it had been in the afternoon.
I spotted Zac’s car immediately, parked in the exact same spot he’d dropped me off. He was staring straight ahead and couldn’t see me standing there, a few meters away from his passenger side door. His jacket was off, his tie loosened, and his hair sat the angrily imperfect way it only did after he’d run a frustrated hand through it multiple times.
I took out my phone and dialed his number.
I watched as he noticed his phone light up and stared at the screen, presumably surprised to see my name on it. I thought for a second that he might ignore it, but he brought it up to his ear instead, albeit hesitantly.
“Where are you right now?” I asked, before he even had a chance to say anything.
“Amelia? Why…? You sound out of breath.”
I ignored his observation and the fog of each heavy exhale in the chilly night air.
“Zac.Whereare you? Right now. Where?”
He realized immediately what had happened, because his head started to turn, scanning the empty street and sidewalk, until he saw me.
“What… what the fuck are you wearing? It’s freezing outside!” He actually had the audacity to be angry about my outfit.That’swhat he was focused on. My stupid fucking outfit.
Rage rippled through my body, making me shiver. Tears, stupid fucking tears, prickled my eyes.
“Are you fucking kiddingme right now, Zac? Myoutfitis what you’re worried about? Why are youhere?”
“… I don’t know.” He sounded defeated. And exhausted. And strained.
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one I have.”
“Bullshit.” I sniffed.
He was out of the car and walking toward me now, his phone in one hand and his jacket in the other. He stopped a few feet away from me, as soon as I started to take steps back.
He hung up the phone, his tired eyes half-mast when they scanned me from head to toe.
I knew what he saw, I knew what I must look like in my flimsy sweat shorts and slippers. I was shivering like a leaf, my teeth chattering quietly on the other side of my pursed lips. My hair was starting to fall out of its loose bun, my mascara was most likely smudged and running thanks to the earlier rain and tears, and my eyes and nose were probably noticeably red as I stared back at him.
And then I noticed it, the way parts of his white shirt clung to his body, the darkened sections of his tie, the slickness of his hair…
“You’re freezing,” he said, offering me his jacket with a stretch of his arm. “Wear this, then we can talk.”
