Rachel eyed me for a moment and caught the closing elevator doors once more. Her look warned me that this would be the last time she held up the doors.
I could still let Rachel go. I could still get what I wanted, what I always said, what I always told myself I wanted.
“I was going to say,” I said, eyes on hers, “that that wasn’t just a drunken thing for me. I think I’m meant to be with you, Rachel.”
This time when the elevator doors closed, Rachel did not extend her arm blindly behind her. She didn’t reach back to stop them. She stood there and let them close. The light on the button went dark. The numbers above flashed lower, lower, lower. All was still in the hallway. All quiet.
Rachel and I stared at one another.
Then she said in a low, husky whisper, “I think we should go back to the room.”
I patted my naked thighs and smiled.
“Yeah, about that…”