Page 67 of Fighting Words

“Are you on a work trip?”

It’s a silly question considering Andrew never travels. He works long, grueling hours from his cubicle in a high-rise one block from Wall Street. His only commute is his short walk home to his apartment every night.

“Work trip? No… This is definitely for pleasure.”

I give a short laugh, still confused. “What are you talking about? Are you in New York?”

“No, actually I’m in Leeds.”

I press the phone closer to my ear even though it’s not overly loud in the coffee shop.

“You’re where?” My voice is filled with wonder. Surely I heard him wrong.

He laughs. “Leeds.England.”

My breath stalls in my chest. “Oh my god.”

“I know. It’s a little crazy, but it felt like I needed to take a chance on us.”

“Oh my god.”

I say it again, slower this time. My rapid-fire blinking isn’t helping to piece two and two together. I stand from my chair, sweep my laptop into my bag, and rush out of the coffee shop.

“What do you mean, Andrew? Are you seriously in England?”

“Yes.” He laughs again, a little nervous. “I’m here.”

I feel like I might start to hyperventilate. I need a paper bag. A doctor!

“You’re here,” I say, processing the news out loud.

This is completely unexpected. Andrew was the one to break up with metwice, though I didn’t even blame him this last time. He had to do it. He was making good on an ultimatum. I needed to get serious about us or he was going to walk away, and he did.

But now he’s here, performing some kind of grand gesture, and I don’t even know what to say.

What do I say?!

I press my hand to my forehead. “Andrew, I’m freaking out a little.”

I’m firing from the hip. Later, I’m sure I’ll regret not tempering my initial reaction better, but right now, I can’t help it. I’m just so shocked he’s here. Andrew has never been an over-the-top romantic guy. Our big nights out for anniversaries or birthdays involve reservations shared via e-calendars.

“I feel the same way actually. You know I’ve never been to England…”

But he’s here now. Expecting to see me.

He’s in Leeds and I’m in Kendal and I don’t even have my own car.I’m here with Nate!

“Give me your address and I’ll head your way.”

I kneel down to take a seat on the sidewalk, but I don’t make it. I just sort of bend over like I’m going to heave.

“I don’t…I don’t have the address on me. This is all so complicated. Andrew, you’re here…” At this moment, my brain screams at me to say something positive. “And I’mso happy. I am. I can’t wait to see you.”

I’m just not sure how to make that happen.

I’ve been aware of people on the sidewalk, giving me a wide berth as they pass by like they’re worried about getting too close to the girl having a public meltdown. I don’t blame them. Honestly, it’d probably be best to cross the street or reroute altogether.

But then someone veers too close, closer, and it’s not until the person is right in front of me that I peer up to see Nate standing there, clutching bags. He sets them on the sidewalk then reaches down to grip my arm and help me stand.

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