Page 79 of Rise (Symbols of Love 1)

George Michael is crooning about careless whispers in my ear when a call interrupts my music. I reach into my pocket for my phone.

I don’t recognize the number, but I answer anyway. I haven’t been here long enough to have the number of everyone who is important saved in my phone yet. I answer quickly.

“Hello?”

“Babe?”

I stop walking and the person behind bumps into me. My heart begins a wild gallop and my hands start to shake.

“Simon?” My voice breaks, barely audible, as my throat closes on the tears of joy and relief that rush to the surface.

“Addie?” He sounds anxious.

“Simon?” My voice is clearer this time

“It’s me, baby. Your voice is so beautiful, Addie. Don’t stop talking.” He sounds so happy; I can hear the smile in his voice.

“Simon.” I can’t believe I am hearing his voice. Nothing coherent registers.

“Addie, where are you?” His voice, so rich and comforting and beautiful, flows into my ears.

I need to sit down.

I start looking around for a place to sit and I know I need to move out of the way. I know I need to respond. I need to get to him.

“Addie?”

“Simon, I’m in New York.”

He chuckles. Tears, hot and unbidden, flow freely down my cheeks. I am jubilant and laugh with him.

“Baby, I know. I meant, where are you right now?”

“I’m on the corner of 5th Avenue and 42nd Street”

“Perfect. Can you cross to the library?”

“What?” I feel like I’ve just had two shots of tequila and a bottle of wine in ten minutes—my brain is slow to catch up. Leaving me confused.

But I do what he says because I would do anything he said at this point if it meant I got to keep hearing his voice.

I cross the street and stand in front of the steps of the library.

“I’m here,” I breath into the phone. Despite the freezing December wind and lightly falling snow, I am sweating.

“Simon, what’s going on? Where are you?”

A pair of strong arms I would know anywhere wrap around my waist from behind. And I feel hot breath on my ear as Simon whispers, “I’m right behind you, Adelaide.”

All at once, I feel a smorgasbord of emotion—unbound joy, wild confusion, roiling terror. I do the only thing I can and burst into hysterical laughter.

And, standing on the steps on the New York Public Library in the arms of the man I love more than I can quantify, I laugh until I cry.

December 18, 2014

I spent two days tracking Addie down. I called the number she left in her letter and reached her mother. She knew who I was and didn’t seem surprised to hear from me. She told me Addie was in New York working for her firm and asked me what I planned to do.

I told her I was coming to get Addie and bring her home to London, even if I had to force her.

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